Chuck In a Moment
by Notorious JMG
Summary: A year and a half ago, a tragedy changed Chuck's life drastically. Now that all is right with the world again, what's he going to do next? Character crossover with "Veronica Mars"; sequel to "Chuck vs the Beautiful Letdown".
1. Stuck In a Moment You Can't Get Out Of

_**Chuck in a Moment**_

**Chapter 1: Stuck in a Moment You Can't Get Out of**

**CAST (in order of appearance):**  
Chuck Bartowski – Zachary Levi  
Ellie Woodcomb – Sarah Lancaster  
Morgan Grimes – Joshua Gomez  
Bryce Larkin – Matthew Bomer  
Jill Roberts – Jordana Brewster  
Jewel Staite – herself  
Professor Fleming – Scott Alan Smith  
Sarah Walker – Yvonne Strahovski  
John Casey – Adam Baldwin  
Carina Hansen – Mini Anden  
Lou Baxter – Rachel Bilson  
Veronica Mars – Kristen Bell  
Devon Woodcomb – Ryan McPartlin  
Logan Echolls – Jason Dohring

* * *

My name is Charles Irving Bartowski. Most people call my Chuck – my sister, my brother-in-law, my friends. There's also two CIA agents, a DEA agent, an FBI agent, and a Balboa County Supervisor in a pear tree who call me Chuck. Then there's an NSA agent and the director of the CIA, both of whom call me Bartowski. The Central Intelligence Agency calls me the Intersect. The National Security Agency calls me Protected Asset Number TX-8311H.

I'm not supposed to know that last one. But then, I know a lot of stuff I'm not supposed to know.

There's some things I'll never know that I wish I did, though. Like how to deal with women.

Let me explain. My history with women is, shall we say, checkered.

There's only one woman who I could ever trust completely and love without reservations. That's my sister – Eleanor Fae Woodcomb, née Bartowski. She is the first person I have a clear memory of. I don't remember my dad very well – he left my mom when I was eight, and I haven't seen him since – but I have crystal clear memories of Ellie going back to when I was three.

So, my mom. You might want to know why I don't trust her. Don't get me wrong – I love my mom dearly, and if she showed up right now, I would probably leap up and wrap her in a huge hug – right before I asked her why the hell she disappeared on me and Ellie my freshman year of high school.

Yeah. That's my mom.

I went to Beverly Hills High School my sophomore through senior years. You see, my mom had left Ellie and me a large chunk of cash – so that Ellie could go to college, and I could finish my high school education at Harvard-Westlake. Ellie and I decided that my college education was more important than me finishing high school at Harvard-Westlake, so when she got a full ride to UCLA, I moved into her off-campus apartment in Westwood with her. That was within BHHS's jurisdiction, so we were able to put away a LARGE amount of money.

Now, you may have seen _Beverly Hills 90210_ and said, "There's no way high school girls in Beverly Hills are that hot." If you said that, I'm here to tell you that you're dead wrong, my friend. Dead wrong. They are that hot and hotter.

I dated a lot of them when I was in high school – but I never got quite as far as one might think. You see, a lot of them wanted to "take our relationship to the next level", as girls in high school tend to say. I wouldn't have minded it, but every time things would start to progress that way, I would freak out. There went that relationship.

I ended up acquiring a rather unjustified reputation both as a man-whore and as a stud. And yet, despite both those reputations, I was still the 18 Year Old Virgin when I walked across the stage on June 11th, 1999.

Now, remember that large amount of money that Ellie and I saved up? Well, it came in handy. You see, I got accepted to Leland Stanford Junior College – better known to the world as Stanford University, in Palo Alto, up by the Bay Area. They gave me a sixty percent scholarship, and with the money we had saved, I only had to take out loans for about ten percent of my total expenses.

The first month I was there, I met somebody who quickly – and probably unfairly – supplanted Morgan Grimes as my best friend. His name was Bryce Larkin. He introduced me to the first girlfriend I ever had who didn't make me freak out. Her name was Jill Roberts.

Why didn't Jill make me freak out? I don't know. She was just as beautiful as any of those girls from Beverly Hills High – but she was a nerd. An unabashed nerd, just like me. An that was what made her so incredibly great.

Jill was the first girlfriend who I ever told I loved. Jill is also the girlfriend who walked away with my v-card. Yeah, my first time was probably a lot less exciting for her than it was for me, but hey. She was patient, and it got better and better from there.

Then, around September of 2002, things got weird. Jill started getting a little distant, and I had no idea why. Fortunately, that's right around the time that Joss Whedon's _Firefly_ came on the air. I thought it was the greatest television show to ever air – in large part because of a character named Kaylee Frye. She was played by a Canadian actress by the name of Jewel Staite, and I thought she was perhaps the coolest character – EVER. Her presence on my screen (and on the tapes I made of all the episodes that aired before those bastards at FOX canceled the show) helped me get through the uncertainty of that fall semester.

During the spring semester of 2003, my world fell apart. I was headed for graduation. Hell, I was headed for being the valedictorian. And then, one day, I was summoned to the office of Professor Fleming. He told me that my roommate – Bryce Larkin – had discovered the answer key to the final exam in Fleming's class under my bed.

Now, that was total bullshit. I was completely innocent. Bryce the Bastard had somehow set me up, and Stanford ended up giving me the boot. But it got worse.

Not even a week after departing Stanford, I found out from a friend of mine in the fraternity that I was in that Jill had been cheating on me with – guess who! – Bryce the Bastard since August of the year before. No wonder she'd been so distant that whole previous semester. Oh, I laid into her good. I called her up, and I told her just what an evil bitch I thought she was. Perhaps not my finest moment in life, but damn did it feel good.

Four and a half years passed. I didn't have a single date, no girlfriends – nothing. I basically became a monk in nerd's clothing. Yes, nerd's clothing – I got a job at the Buy More up in Burbank, and became part of the Nerd Herd.

I'm sure you've seen our commercials, heard our radio ads. You've probably seen one of our stupid little roller skate Toyotas zipping about a city. Eleven bucks an hour – I could've made better money sitting on my ass in the guest services booth at the Beverly Center, but the clientele there made me want to remove my teeth with a pair of pliers.

On September 24th, 2007, everything changed. I received an e-mail from Bryce the Bastard containing the subliminally encoded database that turned me into the Intersect. The next day, the most stunningly beautiful woman I've ever known appeared in my life.

Sarah Elisabeth Walker. Born Elizabeth Lisa Reynolds, she had joined the Central Intelligence Agency in 2002 at the tender young age of 19. During her two hellish years at the University of Massachusetts, 9/11 had driven her Army veteran father around the bend, and his mental disorders had driven her mother to suicide. Unable to take any more, she called the man who had tried to recruit her in high school – CIA Director Arthur Jerrod Graham – and signed up.

Over the following five years, she became a legend within the CIA. She was considered one of the best agents in the Company, so much so that she acquired the nickname the Operative. That's something else I'm not supposed to know. I also know that she hates the nickname, but heck, as an avowed nerd and a devout Browncoat, I can't think of a higher honor for an intelligence agent than to have that nickname.

Anyway, she was sent to Los Angeles to either 1) retrieve the Intersect, 2) kill the person in its possession, or 3) improvise. She ended up having to improvise when it turned out the Intersect was me. An NSA agent by the name of John Casey had been sent to L.A. as well, and between the two of them, they turned into my protection team.

That's when one of the most agonizing periods in my life began. Sarah's cover in Los Angeles was as my girlfriend, and God, I would've given my two front teeth for her to have actually been my girlfriend. That was the thing – I really liked her. My sister was pretty sure that Sarah liked me a lot, too, and my sister has never been wrong about these kinds of things. However, the nature of Sarah's assignment kept her from ever being able to express those feelings.

In October, a Drug Enforcement Administration agent who Sarah had worked with before by the name of Carina showed up in Los Angeles. The woman was downright HOT. Smokin' body, red hair, bright green eyes – I mean, wow. Fantasies would have fantasies about her.

And for some reason passing understanding, she wanted me. She tried not once, not twice, but three times to get me to join her in her hotel room for some fun and games. I managed to resist all three times, but I wanted to know why she wanted me so badly. Carina said it was partly because she thought I was cute, and partly because she enjoyed taking what Sarah wanted. So there I had a second, independent confirmation that Sarah definitely had a thing for me – but Sarah wouldn't admit it herself.

So in November, I fake-broke-up with her. Why? Because I'd met this really cute girl named Lou. She was perky, she was funny, she was sweet, she wasn't afraid to be herself, and she made a hell of a pastrami sandwich. However, I got all of one date out of her before I discovered that she was inadvertently connected to an international smuggling ring.

Well, that fact ended up wrecking our relationship before it ever had a chance to get started. That, and the fact that Sarah and I were at the San Pedro Docks, we thought we were going to die, and Sarah kissed me. I don't mean just a brief kiss on the lips. I mean, she grabbed the back of my head, mashed her face against mine, and went spelunking with her tongue.

Was I complaining? Uh, no! Never in my entire life had I experienced as incredible a kiss as that. Of course, when we didn't end up dying, it got a little awkward, and then, my arch-nemesis – yes, indeed, Bryce the Bastard – showed up.

I caught him making out with Sarah in my bedroom. MY BEDROOM! Of course, later on, when he left, he asked Sarah to join him – and she turned him down. She said it was because of her assignment, but John Casey's bullshit detector is second-to-none, and he called her on it – more than once.

Toward the end of January, there was a situation where the CIA thought that they were going to have to extract me to a secure facility. In the end, Sarah came to my rescue, and there was a brief moment of clarity on a helipad in downtown Los Angeles where there was absolutely no question about how we felt it each other.

The next day, she jumped off the Vincent Thomas Bridge in Long Beach.

For the first couple weeks, it felt like my heart had been physically ripped from my body. Then, it grew to be more of just a dull ache where my heart used to be. Finally, the Los Angeles County Coroner's office officially declared her dead.

Carina and Bryce both came out to Los Angeles for Sarah's memorial service. Then, that night, something happened – something I have never told anybody about, and will probably take to my grave.

I spent that night with DEA Agent Carina Hansen. It's not something I'm terribly proud of, but I don't regret it, either. Sure, maybe having sex with Carina wasn't the greatest idea given my state of mind, but she was willing to hold me and tell me that everything was going to be alright while I cried myself to sleep. For that, I can never thank her enough.

A few months passed. During that time, I wrote a video game. I wrote it about a guy who ended up accidentally downloading a huge government database into his head. Yeah, I know – real original plot. Shut up. I figured if I had to deal with this burden the government had laid upon me, I was going to make a few bucks off of it.

When I went to Comic-Con in July of 2008, I actually got to meet Jewel Staite. That's when I found out that she had actually been approached by Electronic Arts about voicing one of the characters in my game. I could've done backflips to China when I found out about that.

But there was somebody else I met at Comic-Con. Her name was Veronica Mars. We got off to a slightly rocky start – she lied to me from the get-go, and it was only after having a guilt attack after finding out about me and Sarah that she told me the truth – she was an FBI agent who had been assigned as the replacement handler for Sarah.

In truth, the powers that be would've liked for us to use a relationship as a cover, but the fact of the matter was that I was still in grieving, and so a) there was no way I could handle that, and b) there was no way anybody in real life would believe I could be in a relationship already. So we decided to just be friends for the time being.

On September 27th, Ellie Bartowski and Devon Woodcomb got married. Not too long after that, Veronica and I came to an agreement – we would allow our cover to turn into a relationship, but we would still just be friends in reality. It was actually almost funny what was happening there – the reverse of me and Sarah. Whereas Sarah had bottled up her feelings for me while I openly pined for her, Veronica had made it clear that she liked me while I bottled up my feelings for her.

Then we come to January 30th, 2009. The one year anniversary of the day Sarah jumped off the bridge. That night, I found myself on the bridge, in the same spot she had jumped from. I didn't know why I was there, except that I was actually considering taking the plunge myself. Veronica's friend Logan Echolls, the Balboa County Supervisor, for some reason showed up just then and stopped me. That night, I went to Veronica's apartment and told her that I didn't want to hold back my feelings for her any longer.

Things were going well – or so I thought. We had a little encounter with Carina in Arizona in early March, but I managed to fend her off without losing a limb or any other important body parts. But the truth of the matter behind our relationship was that I wasn't over Sarah yet. I really, truly thought I was, but when Ellie and Devon had their son, Reese Walker Woodcomb, I began imagining what it would be like to have kids – and in my mind's eye, the only person I could see myself having kids with was Sarah.

And so, at the beginning of May, I broke up with Veronica. It was painful. I loved her, I really did, but I had come to the realization that I loved her as a friend, whereas she was looking for something more, something that I couldn't give her, mentally or emotionally.

Six weeks later, my world was turned upside down. On the evening of June 13th, Ellie went into her son's bedroom to discover an intruder.

An intruder by the name of Sarah Walker.

It turned out that she hadn't committed suicide. She had jumped to escape from her life as Sarah Walker, because she couldn't let the CIA use her to hurt me any longer. I appreciated her motivations, but I was so incredibly angry that she hadn't just trusted me.

However, I was even happier to see her.

I was so happy to see her that I helped her escape from Veronica and Casey, both of whom wanted to arrest her. We spent a blissful forty-eight hours together on Catalina Island, just being ourselves, and being completely in love with each other, before Veronica and Casey caught up with us.

We were both charged with obstruction of justice, and Sarah was charged with falsifying her death. However, Veronica got Logan to pull some strings, evidence mysteriously disappeared, and the charges were dropped. We were home free.

And so we decided to take a roadtrip. You know, just go where the road took us, have fun. Today's the Fourth of July, and this morning, we hit the Pacific Coast Highway northbound, headed all the way up to Vancouver.

I have a problem, though. You see, there's something that I need to resolve before my relationship with Sarah goes any further, any deeper. I still care about Veronica a great deal – probably a lot more than I really should. I really, really need to take care of that.

So what's the problem?

Well, I think I may have just asked Sarah to marry me.


	2. Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For

_**Chuck in a Moment**_

**Chapter 2: Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For**

**CAST (in order of appearance):**  
Chuck Bartowski – Zachary Levi  
Sarah Walker – Yvonne Strahovski  
Hotel desk clerk – Zach Galifianakis  
Hotel porter – Patrick Fugit  
Logan Echolls – Jason Dohring  
Veronica Mars – Kristen Bell

* * *

**4:30 P.M., Pacific Daylight Time  
Saturday, July 4th, 2009  
The Carriage House Inn  
Carmel By-the-Sea, California**

Chuck had chosen very, very well. This was one of the most incredible hotels Sarah Walker had ever been to.

She wasn't quite sure what they had been thinking, expecting to be able to get a hotel room in Carmel on Fourth of July weekend. But interestingly enough, as they were approaching the town that Clint Eastwood built, Chuck had pulled out his phone, made a call, and lo and behold, the Carriage House Inn had a room waiting for them when they arrived.

"Mr. Echolls said we should expect you, Mr. Bartowski," the front desk clerk had said to Chuck when they checked in.

"We're just grateful you were able to accommodate us tonight," Chuck replied. "I'm sure that pretty much every place in town is packed on a night like this."

"Yes, well, a friend of Logan Echolls is a friend of ours here, sir," the clerk said. "And it helped that he was able to arrange for the guests who we had to walk to stay at an estate owned by the Kane family.

"Will you be attending the Carmel Celebration tonight, sir?"

Chuck looked at Sarah. "Uh, perhaps. We might have… other plans."

The clerk smiled knowingly. "I understand, sir. We'll make sure you… aren't disturbed."

But Chuck didn't take Sarah to bed and ravage her, as she had somewhat been expecting from his comment to the clerk. Instead, when they got to the room, he said he needed a little time by himself to think, and that he was going to walk down to the beach.

Ordinarily, that kind of thing would have disturbed Sarah. However, given the fact that he had sort of proposed to her in a sideways fashion a few hours beforehand, she could understand why he might need a little time to think.

The time to herself gave Sarah the chance to catch up on work a little bit. Before the trial that went nowhere, she had informed Director Graham that she wasn't so sure she wanted to quit after all, but that she needed to go back to analysis – she couldn't deal with working in the field any longer, and she certainly couldn't go back to being Chuck's handler.

Unfortunately, analysis meant a LOT of paperwork, and she had three weeks worth of it to catch up on. Two hours later, though, she'd gotten through not even half of it, her head was pounding, and Chuck wasn't back yet.

Sarah sighed. This was not her idea of a vacation so far. Opening her briefcase, she returned the paperwork to its interior, and then closed it. The briefcase vacuum-sealed itself, and could only be opened if Sarah pressed her thumb against a fingerprint detector.

It was another one of those things that had been designed by that psychotic kid Laszlo, the one the CIA kept in a bunker somewhere along the coast – they had actually probably driven by it that day. He might have been psychotic, but he was also brilliant.

But she didn't need to be thinking about the CIA, psychotic teenage scientists, or anything stressful. This was a vacation. Sarah needed to unwind.

When she had arrived, she had almost squealed in glee at the sight of the two person spa tub in the bathroom. Now, it was time to make use of it. Stepping into the bathroom, she turned on the water, let it run for a moment to get it adjusted to just the right temperature, and then closed the drain.

Returning to the living room, she picked up the phone and dialed the front desk. "Front desk, this is Robert, how may I assist you?" It was the clerk they had spoken with earlier. He pronounced his name Ro-BERR, the French way – which made sense, since his nametag had indicated that he was from Quebec.

"Yes, this is Ms. Walker in room 107. I was hoping to get some wine delivered to the room?"

"Of course, madam. Did you have a particular type in mind?"

Sarah racked her brain for a moment. Her history with wine was a long and very torturous one. When she was in college, she and cheap wine – a lot of the time in boxes – had become close friends – or, more accurately, she had become cheap wine's bitch. However, during her year and a half of exile on Catalina Island, she had become somewhat of a connoisseur – not exactly a sommelier, but pretty close.

Finally, she came up with one that she definitely enjoyed, and which wouldn't make Chuck's eyes bug out of his head when he saw the bill. "Yes, I'd like a bottle – actually, you know what, let's make it a split of 1987 Napa Valley Silver Oak Cabernet." Definitely a better idea to get the split than a full bottle. She didn't need to tempt old demons back to the surface.

She could almost hear the clerk smile. "Of course. An excellent choice. We'll deliver that to your room right away."

Sarah had expected the service to be quick, but when there was a knock on her door less than five minutes later – before the tub had finished filling – she was rather surprised. She hadn't even stripped down and donned a bathrobe yet.

She opened the door – and there was a young man who looked like a kid, although she knew that under California state law, he had to be at least 19 years old. He had balanced on one hand a silver tray containing two wine glasses, a corkscrew, a vacuum resealing cork replacement, and a three-quarter liter bottle of one of the best wines Sarah had ever tasted.

"Where would you like your wine, ma'am?" he asked in a surprisingly deep voice that didn't really fit his appearance.

"Just, right in by the tub," she informed him. He nodded and walked past her into the bathroom. Sarah dug into her pocket to get a tip for him, which she pressed into his palm as he walked out the door.

"Thank you very much, ma'am," he said, not even looking at the tip. It was only after the door had been closed and Sarah heard a muffled "Holy crap!" in the hallway did she know that he had actually looked at the hundred dollar bill in his hand.

She smiled and shook her head. She had made almost a habit of doing that to the staff at the Avalon Hotel on Catalina. The CIA had paid her very, very well as an operative, and had continued to pay her quite well as an analyst, so she figured that she would share the wealth.

As Sarah headed into the bathroom, she stripped down, leaving a trail of clothes on the floor behind her. She figured Chuck would get the hint when he returned.

Before stepping into the bath, she uncorked the wine. She smiled again as the delicate scent of the twenty-two year old cabernet sauvignon drifted up toward her. Pouring slowly and gently so as to not aerate the wine too much or bruise its texture, she filled one of the wine glasses about a third of the way.

Sarah then stepped into the tub and sank down, until only her head and her shoulders remained above the water. She sighed as the just a slight bit too hot water soothed her sore muscles. The soreness was a reminder of all those missions the CIA had sent her on, all around the world, before she had been assigned to Chuck nearly two years before.

She reached out and snagged her wineglass off the tray. Lifting it to her mouth, she gently inhaled the scent of the wine, and then allowed a tiny amount to pass between her lips. She sighed. Drinking this particular vintage was always quite an experience.

Sarah had been in the tub for about an hour and had gone through maybe half the split of wine when she heard the front door open. Chuck had finally returned.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you not to leave your clothes lying around?" she heard him ask, a trace of humor in his voice. A moment later, his head poked into the bathroom.

"Well, you look like you're enjoying yourself," he remarked, a trace of pink touching his cheeks as he saw that she was completely nude. It offered Sarah no small amusement that despite the fact that they had essentially spent the last three weeks in bed, Chuck still had a touch of modesty that caused him embarrassment at being in that sort of situation.

"Care to join me?" she asked, lifting the wine glass.

"In the tub, or in the wine?" he replied, a smile crossing his lips.

Sarah put a mock-thoughtful look on her face. "Don't see why you can't do both," she said, humor in her voice.

He disappeared back into the suite. "Where are you going?" Sarah called after him.

"To change into a bathrobe!"

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Which you're going to have to take off anyway to get into the tub!"

Chuck's head reappeared in the doorway. "I know that, it's just that, I, uh…"

"I have seen you completely naked on a regular basis for the last three weeks, goofball," Sarah gently chided him. "Now get in here."

Chuck wasn't about to say no to that, and so he rapidly dropped his clothes on the bathroom floor and stepped into the tub, sinking down next to Sarah. "See, now, that wasn't so difficult, was it?" she asked.

"I suppose not," he replied. He leaned over to her and gently kissed her. "I ought to go for walks more often if this is what I'm going to come back to."

She kissed him back, not quite as gently. She began to trace her fingernails down his chest, going lower, lower –

Only to have her hand intercepted at his stomach. She felt his fingers wrap around her wrist and gently move her hand away from him. "Let's just, you know, relax for a little while," Chuck said quietly. "Maybe do some talking. We haven't done much of that since… well, since you came back."

Sarah nodded. "Okay, what do you want to talk about?"

Well," Chuck began slowly, "if it's not too intrusive, I'm kind of curious what you did during your year and a half away."

Sarah smiled. "Not very much," she replied. "As I'm pretty sure you figured out from the couple of days we spent there, I went to Catalina Island, because it's pretty out of the way and it wasn't very likely I'd be found there. I had a pretty large amount of money saved up, so I was able to live comfortably while I was there.

"I got a part time job working in a computer store as, believe it or not, a tech support type," she continued. "You really rubbed off on me – I was amazed at how much I had picked up."

Chuck grinned. "I'm just that good."

"Anyway, it was funny. In June of 2008, you remember Devin and Ellie going on vacation to Catalina?"

"Yeah," Chuck replied. "Don't tell me you ran into them and they didn't recognize you!"

"Not exactly," Sarah said. "Your sister's computer crashed, and Devin called the company I worked for to get it fixed. Ellie wasn't there when I got there, and Devin didn't recognize me – I had changed my appearance. I had short red hair, and I was wearing green contacts at the time."

Chuck narrowed his eyes. "Wait a second. You had red hair and green eyes?"

Sarah nodded slowly. "Mm-hmm. Just like your video game character."

He shook his head. "Unbelievable. I went out of my way to design her so that she didn't look like you… and then, it turned out, she looked like you."

She smiled. "Yeah, I just about had a heart attack when I saw a screenshot of the game on TV. I called up Director Graham, to make sure there was no way you could have known."

Chuck cocked an eyebrow. "So Graham knew you were alive?"

"Well, he didn't for the first six months," Sarah admitted. "But, I made one very small tactical error which an analyst happened to pick up on, and he found me. After threatening to rain down the apocalyptic plagues of the book of Revelation on me, he decided to have me go back to analysis work. But he couldn't tell anybody."

"Understandable," Chuck said. "But wait… you, YOU made a mistake?"

He grinned as he said it. "Couldn't be. Not Sarah Walker. I can't believe it!"

"You had better shut up, mister," Sarah shot back, leaning in close to him. "Try not to forget that my hand is all of a foot away from an easily damaged part of your anatomy."

"You wouldn't dare," he said with a smile.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, because then your night would be very boring," Chuck replied with a self-satisfied smirk.

"Well, aren't you full of yourself!" Sarah said.

"You certainly do seem to like it."

"Oh, you are just ASKING for a beat down," Sarah growled, a playful tone in her voice.

"Bring it ON, woman!"

That was it. Sarah turned and leapt on Chuck, causing an alarmed yelp to escape from his throat.

Fifteen minutes later, the tub had maybe half of its water remaining in it. The other half was all over the bathroom floor.

"The housekeeping staff is gonna hate us," Chuck remarked.

"I'll leave them a big tip," Sarah replied, a satisfied tone in her voice.

Chuck laughed. "You'd better. I think we just put half the tub on the floor."

Sarah smiled. "You want to work on the other half?"

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Slow DOWN. If you wear me out on the first night of this roadtrip, it is going to be very long and boring."

"Oh, alright," she pouted.

Ten minutes later, though, between the wine and how much the hot water had relaxed her, Sarah lay next to Chuck on the bed, fast asleep. Chuck smiled and extricated his arm from underneath her.

Retrieving his cell phone, Chuck stepped out on the balcony and watched fireworks launch from the beach. He dialed a number and put the phone to his ear. A voicemail picked up a moment later.

"Hi, you've reached Logan Echolls. Pleasure in the job puts perfection in the work. Leave a message!"

Chuck laughed softly at the fact that Logan put a different "inspirational" message on his voicemail every day. "Logan, hey, Chuck Bartowski. Thanks for helping us out with the hotel room in Carmel. I don't mean to be a pest, but do you know any nice places up around Eureka? Give me a call. Thanks!"

He hung up the phone, and debated whether or not to make the second call. He sighed. It had to be done. Chuck dialed again.

"Please don't pick up," he breathed as the phone rang. Nobody did.

"Hi, you've reached Special Agent Veronica Mars, Federal Bureau of Investigation. If you need immediate assistance, please call the Los Angeles S.A.C. Otherwise, leave a message!"

Chuck took a deep breath. "Hey, it's me," he said. "Listen, there's something I need to talk to you about. Give me a call when you get this, okay? Thanks."

He hung up the phone again, and turned to walk back into the room. Sarah was asleep, and now had her back to him. He crawled into the bed, making it move as little as he could. Scooting up behind her, he gently wrapped his arm around her.

She let go a little sigh, and rolled her body a bit to form more against his. "Much better," she breathed sleepily.

Chuck smiled. "Good night, Sarah."

"Good night, Chuck."


	3. Walk On

_**Chuck in a Moment**_

**Chapter 3: Walk On**

**CAST (in order of appearance):**  
Sarah Walker – Yvonne Strahovski  
Chuck Bartowski – Zachary Levi  
Logan Echolls – Jason Dohring  
John Casey – Adam Baldwin  
Veronica Mars – Kristen Bell

* * *

**9:30 A.M. Pacific Daylight Time  
Sunday, July 5th, 2009  
The Carriage House Inn  
Carmel By-the-Sea, California**

Sarah slowly came to wakefulness. No alarm clock to wake her up. No phone ringing to take her off on a mission. Just one solitary sunbeam poking its way between the curtains and onto her face.

She grumbled and rolled over to bury her face in Chuck's back – except Chuck wasn't there.

That brought Sarah fully awake. She rolled back over on her back and sat up. Where the hell had he gone?

She was about to enter a full-on panic when she heard a key in the door. A moment later, it swung open, and there he was. On the phone.

"Okay, Logan," he said as he came in the door. "So, that's tonight at the Eagle House Victorian Inn in Eureka, tomorrow night at the Elizabeth Inn in Newport, Tuesday night at the Fairmont Olympic in Seattle, and Wednesday through whenever we leave at the Renaissance in Vancouver?"

He paused for a moment. "Thanks, man. I owe you one." Another pause. "An advance copy of my next game? I'm sure I'll see what I can do. Of course, that would require me writing another game."

Chuck paused again, and then laughed. "Bring it on. I don't live in your jurisdiction, remember?" One final pause. "Thanks again. Later."

Sarah looked at him admonishingly. "Was that Logan Echolls you were on the phone with?"

Chuck looked back at her. "Do I know another Logan?"

She sighed. "Chuck, he's a womanizing, law-breaking, somewhat corrupt county official –"

"Who got county charges against both of us and federal charges against you dropped," Chuck said. "I think we both owe him a little gratitude. Besides which, he's a good guy."

Sarah sighed again. "I just don't think it's a good idea for you to be associating with Logan Echolls, Chuck. That's all."

A look of disbelief appeared on his face. "Why the hell not? It's not like I'm this huge public figure, and besides which, I think it's a little late – the release party for _Mindnode_ was at his HOUSE, for God's sake. You know, Veronica trusts him."

Sarah raised an eyebrow. "DOES she now. And I should give a rat's ass what your ex-girlfriend thinks of him because?"

Chuck raised both of his hands. "Wait a second. This is not about her. This is about Logan."

Sarah shook her head. "The moment you mentioned her, you made it about her. Why DID you mention her, anyway?"

Chuck put a hand to his forehead. "Maybe because she's my friend? Maybe because she's my handler? Maybe because I can trust her?"

His intention was not to anger or upset Sarah, but the combination of words that he chose – friend, handler, and trust – were just the right combination to really ruin her morning.

"What the hell does that mean?!" she shouted, tears springing to her eyes. "Does that mean I'm NOT your friend? Does that mean you can't trust me? I seem to recall that once upon a time, I WAS your handler, and…"

She stopped. That was the operative word, wasn't it? "Was". She had been his handler, and then she had jumped off the Vincent Thomas Bridge.

"You're right," she said softly. "You don't have any reason to trust me."

A panicked look appeared on Chuck's face as he realized what had just happened. "Yes I do!" he replied, feeling helpless. "Why wouldn't I trust you? You're the best thing that's ever happened to me!"

"Chuck!" Sarah shot back. "I jumped off of a bridge! How does that make me the best thing that's ever happened to you?!"

"Because you came back –"

"And I was going to run away," she replied. "The only reason I didn't escape was because Casey was waiting for me with a gun."

Chuck visibly deflated. "Oh," he said softly. "I didn't know…"

"I didn't want you to know," she cried. "I wanted you to think I had come back for you, because when you told me that you loved me… that… that was the best thing I've ever had happen to me."

He was silent for a moment. All she'd done, all she had accomplished in her short life, and him telling her that he loved her was the best thing that had ever happened to her. How was he supposed to process that?

Maybe the time for processing would come later. Maybe right now, it was more important to remind Sarah of the fact that he loved her.

Chuck nodded and sat down on the bed next to her. "Listen," he said quietly. "I'm going to be completely truthful with you right now. I… I do have a little trouble trusting you. I've been through a lot in the last year and a half because of you, and it's not easy."

Sarah just nodded, not trusting herself to say anything. She felt tears trickling down her face.

"But here's the thing," Chuck continued. "Trust or no, I still love you. And nothing's going to change that."

And that statement was enough to bring a smile back to her lips. "You're without question the best thing that's ever happened to me," Chuck said. "And you know… you jumping off that bridge was actually kind of good for me, in a weird, twisted sort of way. It made me value the people I love, the people I care about that much more. It made me open up a little more, be willing to take more risks, be more vulnerable. And I have two more friends out of the whole thing."

"Um…" Sarah thought for a moment. "Last September, you visited my gravesite at Forest Lawn. There was, uh, security footage, which I saw."

"You saw that?" Chuck asked. Sarah nodded, uncertain where Chuck was going with this. "Oh, God," he moaned. "How humiliating."

That certainly wasn't what she was expecting. "I was really touched by what you said," she replied quietly. "When you said that all I had to do was tell you what was wrong, that you would've fixed it." She smiled through the tears that had started to well up in her eyes again. "Leave it to a nerd to think he could fix a girl."

Chuck sniffed back tears of his own that were starting to build. "Nerd, huh?" he said softly. "Talk about the pot and the kettle."

Sarah smiled, wrapped her arms around his back, and hugged him. Chuck responded in kind, and as his arms softly enfolded her, Sarah felt safe, warm, protected – all the things she loved about being hugged by Chuck.

She smiled. "You have no intention of ending your association with Logan Echolls, do you?"

He chuckled. "Babe, he's my number one investor. Besides which, if I do, we might have a problem with accommodations the next few nights."

Sarah pulled back and nodded. "Alright," she replied with a straight face. "But when I start hanging out with Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan, I don't want to hear anything about it."

Chuck rolled his eyes. "You are an enormous loser."

"And yet, you love me."

* * *

John Casey put his head in his hands. "I may vomit if I have to listen to much more of this," he grumbled.

"Hey, shut up," Veronica Mars replied. "Two months ago, I was in a relationship with Chuck. How do you think I feel about having to listen to it?"

Casey shot her a look. "Fine," he said. "We'll blame it on the CIA. After all, it was Director Graham's idea for us to tail them."

Veronica got a thoughtful look on her face. "Yeah, I wonder where General Beckman is."

* * *

**12:30 P.M.  
US-101 Northbound, San Jose, California**

Sarah and Chuck's moods had both improved considerably since two hours before. They had checked out of the Carriage House Inn just after 11:00, and now they were headed up to Eureka, via San Francisco and the Golden Gate Bridge.

Chuck was on the phone. He was trying to reach Veronica again, and fortunately, when he left the message, "Hey, it's me again. Gimme a call when you get a chance," Sarah didn't suspect in the least the real reason why he wanted to talk to Veronica.

Then he called Logan Echolls. "Chuck, two calls in one day!" Logan said in mock astonishment when he answered. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Have you seen Veronica in the last couple of days?" Chuck asked.

"Seen? No. Talked to? Yeah, on Friday night," Logan replied. "She said she was going to be busy the next few days, she might have to go out of town, she wasn't sure when she was going to be back."

Chuck nodded. "I see," he said. "Well, thanks, Logan. I'll try not to call you again today, lest you think I'm stalking you."

"Or you want to go out with me," Logan replied.

"Yeah, that'll be the day."

Chuck hung up and shook his head. A rueful smile appeared on his face. "Son of a bitch," he said with a laugh.

Sarah looked at him, confused. "What?"

"Just a moment," Chuck replied, calling another number.

"This is John Casey. Leave a message."

Chuck hung up. "Veronica's not picking up, Casey's not picking up. Logan said that Veronica was going out of town for a few days, and I'll bet you that if I call the Buy More, Big Mike would tell me that Casey's on vacation."

"You don't think –"

"Oh, I do. Tell you what. Pretend to have steering trouble for a second, and then pull over."

* * *

"Hey, the Porsche is swerving a little," Veronica said, a note of concern in her voice.

"Yeah, that's not good," Casey replied, as the Porsche 911 shot off to the side of the road and slowed to a halt on the shoulder.

He could see from their position a quarter mile back as Chuck Bartowski got out of the Porsche and looked at the right front. Sarah Walker also got out of the Porsche, and started going around the car.

"We're not gonna stop, are we?" Veronica asked.

"No," Casey growled as the Crown Vic shot past. "Shit, shit, shit!"

* * *

Neither Chuck nor Sarah really looked up, but Chuck could see enough out of his peripheral vision. "Did you see it?" he asked.

"You mean the maroon Crown Vic, California license plate five charlie alpha whiskey eight eight two?" Sarah asked, a touch of anger in her voice. "As in, the Crown Vic that's registered to Casey?"

"That'd be the one," Chuck replied. "Let's go beard the lion in his den, shall we?"

Sarah shook her head as she got in the car. "Well, it shouldn't be too hard to find them," she growled. "But how are you going to contact them?"

* * *

"Okay, they've passed," Veronica said, looking down from the overpass. "You sure these tracking things will work?"

Casey smiled. "Agent Mars, there are tracking nanocells in the Porsche's fuel, its coolant, its oil, its transmission fluid, its brake fluid, and its power steering fluid. They're not gonna lose us."

* * *

"Well, shit," Sarah said two hours later as they crossed the Golden Gate Bridge. "How do you make somebody leave you alone if you can't find them?"

"Maybe we should just forget about it," Chuck replied. "I mean, they haven't really bothered us yet…"

"It's the principle of the thing, though!" Sarah exclaimed. "God knows what they might have heard… for that matter, God knows how they found us…"

"Yeah, well," Chuck said. "We'll live. In fact…"

He smiled evilly and turned to Sarah. "How about you want to melt their parabolic microphones tonight?"

* * *

**9:30 P.M.  
Eagle House Victorian Inn, Eureka, California**

Casey and Veronica sat in the Crown Vic, their faces masks of shock and horror. "Oh… my… God," Veronica finally spat out, after about fifteen minutes. "What the hell is going on in there?"

"Jesus," Casey breathed. "I'm not sure I can listen to this much longer."

Veronica cocked an eyebrow, as if she heard something interesting. "Hmmm," she said. "Oh my… oof."

Then her face took on an expression as if she'd just bitten into a lemon. "He never wanted to do that with ME!"

"Okay, that's it, I'm done," Casey snapped, ripping the headphones off of his ears. "Clearly, they're in NO danger. You want to keep sitting there and listening to the Walker-Bartowski porno hour, you go RIGHT ahead. I'm going to go find a burger. And some brain bleach."

He started to get out of the car, and then thought twice. "You do know Walker's faking it, right?"

Veronica couldn't resist. "No, she isn't," the petite FBI agent replied with an ear to ear grin. "She has no NEED to fake it. Trust me."

Casey's jaw dropped. "Seriously… I'm gonna go behind the car and vomit now."

* * *

Chuck and Sarah both collapsed on the bed. They were both rather worn out after the last hour.

After about five minutes of just lying there, Chuck finally summoned the energy to move his arm. Reaching over to the nightstand, he snagged a notepad and a pen.

_You think we made either of them throw up?_

Sarah grinned, and took the pen. _Maybe Casey_, she wrote. _But I have the feeling that FBI agent likes to get a little freaky._

Chuck read that and turned bright red. _I have no comment in this matter._

_Good thing, mister._

* * *

After Chuck and Sarah had FINALLY drifted off to sleep, Casey and Veronica went into the room that they had booked for the night. It only had one bed, but that wasn't a problem, because they'd be sleeping in shifts – with the one not sleeping drawing the oh so fun duty of listening on the surveillance microphones.

They were several rooms away from Chuck and Sarah, so Casey had had to fiddle with the placement of the microphones and the digital filtering before he finally got it right. He took the first shift, and four o'clock couldn't have come soon enough for him.

When the end of his shift finally came, he pulled off the headphones and woke Veronica up. However, with the headphones off for just that brief period of time, neither of them was listening to hear Chuck suddenly exclaim, "Holy shit! I know how they're tracking us!"


	4. All I Want Is You

_**Chuck in a Moment**_

**Chapter 4: All I Want Is You**

**CAST (in order of appearance):**  
Chuck Bartowski – Zachary Levi  
Sarah Walker – Yvonne Strahovski  
Veronica Mars – Kristen Bell  
John Casey – Adam Baldwin  
Diamonds By the Sea owner – Matthew McConaughey

* * *

**4:01 A.M., Pacific Daylight Time  
Monday, July 6th, 2008  
Eagle House Victorian Inn, Eureka, California**

Chuck sat bolt upright in bed. "Holy shit! I know how they're tracking us!"

The exclamation pulled Sarah from her sleep. She sat up, looked at Chuck, and then held a finger to her lips. She grabbed the notepad and wrote, _You've got to keep it quiet if we don't want them to catch on to us._

Chuck took the notepad and started to write something back, and then he had a better idea. Reaching down from the bed, he grabbed his backpack, opened it up, and pulled out his laptop. Made by Alienware, it was a fantastic high-end gaming platform, but right at that moment, all he needed was Microsoft Word.

_You know how Casey's a big fan of tracking nanocells, right?_ he typed. _Puts them in food, coffee, that kind of thing, so he can keep track of people._

_Right_, Sarah typed back. _You think he's tracking our bodies?!_

_Not possible_, Chuck replied. _Neither of us has had any food or drink that could have been exposed to him since the 28th or 29th. They all would have passed out of our systems by now._

_So where would they be?_ Sarah typed, a curious look on her face.

_The fluids in your car_, Chuck said. _Obviously the ones in the gas get burned off fairly quickly, but the oil, the power steering fluid, the transmission fluid, the brake fluid, the coolant, the wiper fluid, hell, probably even the Freon in your air conditioner._

_So, the answer then is to flush the systems_, Sarah typed. _That's going to be difficult. I don't want to take the car anywhere but a Porsche dealership to have that done, and we're not going to run across another one of those on our route till we hit Seattle._

Chuck looked over at her and smiled. _That's okay,_ he typed. _Gives us another couple days to screw with their heads._

* * *

**6:30 A.M.**

Veronica was tired. She still had the headphones on. The last two and a half hours had been excruciatingly boring. Just after she put the headphones on, there had been a few minutes where it sounded like one of the two was typing on a laptop, but she figured that it was Chuck – he'd probably had a flash of inspiration about his next video game.

After that, it had been nothing but breathing and snoring.

Until now.

"_Good morning_," she heard Chuck say, his voice thick with sleep.

"_Mmm… morning_," was the reply from an equally tired sounding Sarah Walker.

"_Why are you up already?_"

"_Might ask the same…_"

Then she heard what sounded distinctly like a kiss, followed by rustling cloth – probably the sheets being thrown off the bed.

"Oh, please God, no," Veronica whined softly.

Then there was a moan, and Sarah said something unintelligible. A disgusted look crossed Veronica's face, and yet, she sat there, in rapt attention.

The noises increased – from both parties. Veronica's eyes got wider. A flush began to creep up her cheeks.

"This is the most fucked-up job I've ever had," she whispered.

* * *

**6:51 A.M.**

John Casey slowly came awake. He looked around the dimly lit room. The surveillance station was abandoned, and there was nobody sleeping on the floor – and all of Veronica's personal effects still sat on the nightstand.

"What the hell?" he said quietly. "Mars! Mars, where the hell are you?!"

The bathroom door swung open, and the diminutive FBI agent popped out. Her hair was mussed, her eyes wide. Her face was bright pink, and there was a distinctly guilty look on her face.

Casey studied her for a moment. "What the hell were you doing in there?" he finally asked.

"Nothing," she replied, a little too quickly. "Uh, nothing at all."

A ghost of a smile crossed Casey's face. "Riiiight."

* * *

**4:00 P.M.  
Newport, Oregon**

Casey and Veronica's entire drive up from Eureka had been spent in silence, interrupted only by the occasional comment from one to the other. Veronica spent the entire time staring at her laptop screen, refusing to carry on a conversation with Casey.

Of course, there was no good way to get around the awkwardness – Casey thought it was hilarious that he'd woken up just as Veronica was, as he put it, "finishing herself off". Veronica, on the other hand, failed to see the humor in it.

Part of it was, of course, a certain measure of jealousy. She'd spent the better part of a year being a supportive friend to Chuck, helping him to get through one of the toughest times of his life. She'd also had what she considered to be one of her more productive relationships with him – certainly more so than the insanity that was Duncan Kane, or the self-destructive cycle that was Logan Echolls, or the sheer stupidity that was Piz Piznarski.

And then, Sarah Walker had come waltzing back into his life, and what did he do? Why, he became a fugitive with her, fleeing to Catalina Island and hiding out there. Veronica had never said it to Chuck – would never say it to him – but she had felt betrayed when he had done that.

She understood, though. In fact, she realized there was a pretty powerful parallel to the idiotic stunt she had pulled with helping Duncan flee the country there, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

Veronica had watched in silence as Chuck and Sarah had checked into the Elizabeth Street Inn. She had remained silent as Casey pulled back out of the parking lot, went around the block, and came back to the Shilo Inn, down the street. He went into the office, and did his usual job of "negotiating" – in other words, pulling out his NSA card and threatening the manager with the words "national" and "security". When he came back out, he reported proudly that he had obtained a room with a direct line of sight to the window of Chuck and Sarah's room.

"Oh, joy!" Veronica had remarked sarcastically. "So that means we can have not only audio, but we can get a high definition video feed as well!"

"You would be into that kind of thing, wouldn't you?" Casey replied with a smirk.

Chuck and Sarah hadn't stayed at the hotel very long, though. They had left on foot, walking up the beach. That made it a little difficult to track them. Casey had to drive slowly up residential streets, with Veronica in the back seat, using one of her telephoto lenses on her camera to keep track of them.

Occasionally, they would disappear behind a beachfront property, but come back into view a moment later. Veronica actually was pretty impressed with the fact that Casey was able to mostly keep them in sight and re-find them every time they disappeared.

At one point, though, they turned and walked almost directly toward the Crown Vic. Casey quickly drove up the street and turned into a driveway. As Veronica watched from her crouched-down position in the back seat, Chuck and Sarah strolled leisurely down Twenty-First Street back toward the Pacific Coast Highway.

When they reached the PCH, the pair turned left and headed north again. Casey followed very slowly, leaving at least a block between the Crown Vic and their quarry. A moment later, though, they turned and entered a strip shopping center. Casey accelerated, and pulled into the parking lot.

He pulled in just in time for Veronica to watch as they entered a shop called Diamonds By the Sea. Her breath caught in her throat. It felt like a rock had settled in her stomach.

Casey looked in the rear view mirror and caught the expression on her face. "It's called jealousy, Mars," he remarked casually – and rather callously, she felt. "You'll get used to it."

"Thanks a lot, Casey."

* * *

"They don't have a clue," Chuck whispered, almost giggling. "Although, I do have to give them credit for keeping track of us while we were on the beach. I didn't even notice them until we crossed that first street by the ocean."

"Wait, you saw them then?" Sarah asked. "Dammit, I'm slipping. Where were they?"

"Parked in a driveway five houses up the street. I only saw them because I was actively looking for them," he admitted.

Sarah gave him a look. "You're supposed to be enjoying your time with me, not keeping an eye out for Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Ex-Girlfriend."

Chuck was about to say something in response, but he was interrupted by the jeweler – a guy in his sixties, with long hair, who looked like he had smoked his share of pot back in the 1960s – his share, and his brother's share, and his mother's share.

"Greetings, folks!" he said in a voice that made him sound like he was perpetually stoned. "What can I do for you this fine afternoon?"

"Well," Chuck said, a smile appearing on his face, "we are actually in need of an engagement ring."

"Whoa!" the guy said. "Congratulations!"

"Don't congratulate too quickly," Sarah said cheekily. "He hasn't actually asked me yet."

The stoner jeweler turned to Chuck, a look of shock on his face. "Dude!" he objected. "Are you nuts? You gotta ask the lady!"

Chuck rolled his eyes. "Oh, but she wants it to be PERFECT," he replied. "On the beach, under the moon, big rock – all that."

"Well, full moon this week, dude."

"I'm aware, thank you," Chuck said irritably. "I was actually hoping you could help us out with the 'big rock' part of that."

"Right on, dude. What were you thinking? Diamond? Birthstone? Something crazy?"

"I was actually thinking a little bit of all three," Sarah said. Chuck looked over at her, and it seemed as if he had a big _WTF?_ written across his forehead. "What?" she said. "I'm the one who's going to be wearing it for the rest of my life."

And with that statement, Chuck smiled and softened a little. "Okay," he replied. "So, what do you think?"

"Well, what's the birth month?" the jeweler asked.

"June," Sarah replied.

"Oh, man, alexandrite, sweet. Okay, let me see what I got. I'll be right back."

As soon as he left the room, Sarah turned to Chuck, a barely concealed smirk on her face. "How much pot do you think he's smoked in his lifetime?"

Chuck smiled back. "Probably enough to make Snoop Dogg and Willie Nelson look like amateurs."

Sarah shook her head. "I could never see the appeal," she said. "All the people I knew who smoked it just ended up strung out and paranoid."

"Hey, it's not THAT bad," Chuck replied, speaking before thinking. "It can actually be a little relax…ing…"

Sarah's eyes had narrowed, and she was giving him a look that made Chuck a little uncomfortable. "So you've tried it, then?"

Chuck shrugged. "What can I say – I did go to college just down the road from San Francisco." Then a thought occurred to him. "It was Bryce's fault, anyway."

Sarah's eyes went wide in astonishment. "NO," she said incredulously. "Are you telling me that straight-laced, upper-crust New Englander Bryce Larkin smoked the wacky weed?"

"WAY more than I ever did," Chuck replied, a smile creeping back onto his lips. "Our sophomore year, he was a gigantic pothead."

"Nothin' at ALL wrong with that, bro," the jeweler interrupted, coming out of the back. "Calms the nerves."

He set a blue velvet box on the counter in front of him. "Take a look, folks."

Chuck picked up the box and opened it. "WOW," he breathed, taking the ring in.

Sarah looked. "Oh my goodness."

The centerpiece of the ring was a one carat diamond. It was surrounded by one-quarter carat alexandrite stones on either side, with a one-tenth carat sapphire and a one-tenth carat emerald both above the stone and below it. The setting was unique – it was a dual band sort of setup. The interior band was made of 14-karat gold, and the exterior band was two very narrow strips of platinum, with a strip of mother-of-pearl running between them.

Sarah's face looked like that of a five year-old on Christmas morning. "This ring is unbelievable," she whispered.

Chuck grinned. "Is that what you want?"

"Oh yeah," she said softly.

"Well, let's see how it fits, get it sized," the jeweler said. He took the box back and removed the ring. Sarah held out her hand, and the jeweler was about to slide the ring on, when he stopped and turned to Chuck. "You want to do the honors, bro? You know, get a little practice in?"

* * *

Veronica's face had turned to stone as she watched through the telescopic lens. She could see the huge smiles on both Chuck and Sarah's faces as he slid the ring onto her hand, and then took it back off and handed it to the jeweler.

"Let's go, Casey," she said in a wooden voice. "They'll be fine. It's not like they're going anywhere without the Porsche."

Casey was going to say something, but when he turned and saw her face, he decided it would be in his best interests to keep quiet. Starting up the Crown Vic, he put it in gear and pulled away.

* * *

"No sizing needed at all, bro," the jeweler said in astonishment. "It's like it was made for her!"

Chuck smiled – and then sighed. Time to ask the big question.

"How much is the damage gonna be on this?"

The jeweler looked at him, then at Sarah, then at the ring. Stepping back behind the counter, he pulled out a calculator. "Um… let's see… ring… no sizing… tax… eighteen thousand, six hundred thirty-two dollars and forty-one cents."

"Holy Christ," Chuck gasped.

"Come on, I'm worth it, and you know it," Sarah teased him.

"That is SO more than two months pay for me," Chuck grumbled.

"Yes, but you're a highly successful video game designer on the side, remember?" Sarah said sweetly.

"Guess I better get to writing a new one then."

The jeweler's eyes went wide, as his pot-baked brain finally came to a realization. "Oh, dude, I KNEW I recognized you!" he said. "You're the guy who wrote that game about the guy with the database in his head!"

Chuck smiled. "Guilty as charged," he said, reaching in his pocket to withdraw his wallet.

As he pulled out his American Express, the jeweler looked at Sarah. "And that must make you the chick who jumped off the bridge!"

"Yeah," Sarah replied slowly. "Not my finest moment."

"What are you talking about?!" the jeweler exclaimed as he took Chuck's credit card. "That was HARDCORE! And then you showed back up, and then you guys got all the charges dropped – that was unbelievable! They ought to make a movie about it!"

Chuck laughed as he took his credit card back and was handed the box. "Believe me when I say, that's pretty much the last thing we want."

Ten minutes later, as they were walking back toward the hotel, Sarah asked, "You're not going to keep that thing on you, are you?"

"Uh, yeah!" Chuck replied. "I'm not giving it to you till I'm good and ready."

Sarah laughed and shook her head. "Just trying to be helpful, since the last time you had a ring in your custody, it went missing in a gigantic fish."

"Yeah well," Chuck shot back, "there's no Morgan around to steal it from me, and no Fulcrum around to taunt me with it. Is there?"

"God, I hope not," Sarah breathed. "Although I'm not sure which I'd be more worried about showing up!"


	5. Mysterious Ways

_**Chuck in a Moment**_

_**Author's note: **__I am MASSIVELY pissed that CBS has decided to cancel _Moonlight_. Les Moonves is a gigantic tool. Seriously, this, to me, ranks right up there with FOX canceling _Firefly_ and the CW canceling _Veronica Mars.

**Chapter 5: Mysterious Ways**

**CAST (in order of appearance):**  
Sarah Walker – Yvonne Strahovski  
Chuck Bartowski – Zachary Levi  
John Casey – Adam Baldwin  
Veronica Mars – Kristen Bell

* * *

**1:30 P.M., Pacific Daylight Time  
Tuesday, July 7th, 2009  
The Space Needle, Seattle, Washington**

Sarah Walker had never – in this life or her "previous" civilian life – been to Seattle. Chuck had been half a dozen times since he was a kid.

And Sarah seemed like a little kid herself as they came out of the elevator at the top of the Space Needle. "This is SO cool," she breathed. She laughed giddily as they exited outside onto the observation deck.

"You know, Chuck," she said, turning to him with a smile on her face, "I'd be okay with it if you decided to forgo the moon and the beach, because right here, right now would be quite alright, too."

Chuck looked at her and cocked an eyebrow. Then he reached into his pocket and came back out with the blue velvet box. "Really."

Sarah's eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat. "Really?" she echoed him.

Chuck smiled and opened the box. "Sarah Walker…" he said, "I think…"

He snapped the box shut again. "That you're just gonna have to wait until the moment is perfect."

Chuck slid the box back into this pocket, and Sarah playfully slapped him on the shoulder. "Jerk," she said.

"Yeah, but I'm your jerk, right?"

Sarah smiled. "Damn right."

Chuck kissed her, and then stepped to the edge. He grabbed one of the coin-operated telescopes, swiveling it around. Digging into his pocket, he pulled out two quarters and slipped them into the telescope. The lens opened, and he put his eyes to the viewer, looking around –

"Well, I'll be damned," he said with a laugh. "Take a look."

Sarah looked at him, puzzled, and then stepped up to the telescope. She looked through –

And saw that it was pointed at a maroon Ford Crown Victoria. "Why, hello Casey!" she snickered.

The NSA agent was leaning against the car, smoking a cigar. Veronica Mars was sitting on the hood of the car – and she looked really unhappy.

Sarah pulled back from the telescope. "Chuck?"

"What's up?" he asked.

"Take a look," she replied. Chuck looked through the telescope.

"Oh," he said quietly. "She doesn't look very happy."

"No, Chuck, she really doesn't," Sarah replied. "Do you think she saw us yesterday afternoon? Do you think that's why she looks upset?"

Chuck sighed. "I'd say there's a chance that that has something to do with it," he said.

"When was the last time you talked to her? I mean, she is your friend, Chuck, and she may be feeling like you abandoned her."

Chuck gave Sarah a weird look. "What are you now, an amateur psychiatrist?"

"Nooo," Sarah said slowly, "just a woman saying I understand how she might be feeling."

Chuck sighed. "I've tried to call her every day. She doesn't answer the phone – probably because she doesn't want to potentially give away the fact that they're following us – and she won't return my calls."

"Probably for the same reason," Sarah mused. "Well, maybe we should try to make this experience a little less torturous for her."

"How so?"

"No more loud sex, mister," Sarah said. That was enough to draw curious glances from a few people around her, which she ignored. "Unless we're in the shower."

Chuck narrowed his eyes. "You're no fun sometimes."

Sarah shrugged. "Just looking out for a fellow woman."

"Fine," Chuck replied, rolling his eyes. "Are we still going to pull our little bait-and-switch stunt on them tomorrow?"

Sarah grinned. "Oh, absolutely."

* * *

Chuck and Sarah were still both awake at 1:00 A.M., but they had closed the blackout drapes to prevent the possibility of somebody spying on them. Chuck changed into all black, and then snuck out of the room. He headed downstairs, and slunk out to Sarah's Porsche. "Sorry," he whispered, and sank Sarah's switchblade into the right front tire.

"Is it done?" she asked when he returned to the hotel room. He nodded, causing her to cringe. "My poor baby…"

Chuck rolled his eyes and crossed to the table she was sitting at. _It's a tire_, he typed on her MacBook. _They'll put on a whole new set at the dealership while they're exchanging Casey's tracking fluids for new fluids._

"I know that," she hissed. "But it's the principle of the thing!"

"You and the principle of the thing," Chuck groused, turning for the bed. He was not expecting to be tackled from behind.

"Ooof," he grunted as he collapsed onto the bed. Sarah grabbed him by the shoulder and violently flipped him over.

"You are SO gonna pay for that," she growled, a rather fierce smile on her face.

Chuck didn't say anything – just smiled right back.

* * *

Casey sat in his hotel room three floors below, listening to the goings-on in Sarah and Chuck's suite. He sighed and decided it was probably a good thing that he was monitoring right now, and that Mars was asleep. He was actually starting to feel sorry for her – this was not the first time in his life that he'd seen the sort of looks that she was giving Chuck through the camera while doing surveillance.

Then he heard something particularly disturbing and did his best to suppress a groan. "You two are twisted on the inside," he muttered to himself.

* * *

**8:30 A.M.  
July 8th, 2009**

Casey and Veronica had already been downstairs in the Crown Vic for half an hour when Chuck and Sarah came down to the Porsche. Veronica had a parabolic microphone pointed at the Porsche, which she would turn off as soon as the car started – the engine noise would render it completely useless.

And so she heard when Chuck said, "_Aw, are you kidding me?_"

"_What is it?_" Sarah asked.

"_Somebody slashed the right front tire._"

"_ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!_"

There was a moment of silence, and then Sarah's voice again – "_Goddammit!_" Sarah was quiet again, and then Veronica heard her say, "_My member number is one three nine five six zero five one four. I'm at the Fairmont Olympic, and somebody's slashed one of my tires. I need to have it towed to the nearest Porsche dealership._"

Sarah was quiet for a moment, and then said, "_California license plate five zulu alpha victor four five two. It's a black 2005 Porsche 911._" Another pause. "_Fifteen minutes? Okay, thank you._"

Veronica turned to Casey. "Well, we're gonna be here a little while longer," she said. "Somebody slashed one of her tires. She just got off the phone with AAA – they're sending a tow truck to take the car to the nearest Porsche dealership…"

She opened Safari on her iBook and pulled up Google Maps. "…which is in the eleven thousand block of northeast Eighth Street in Bellevue, about eleven miles from here."

"Great," Casey grumbled. "Do me a favor, see if there's a Ford dealership anywhere around there."

Veronica searched, and reported, "About half a mile away."

"Good, an inconspicuous place to hide," Casey sighed. "It'll take a while for them to change her tires. Might as well get the oil changed while we're over there."

* * *

Two hours later, the Crown Vic's oil had been changed, and the trackers on the Porsche still hadn't moved. "This is the most boring stakeout of all time," Casey grumbled.

"Again, we can blame the CIA," Veronica replied. "You said it yourself, this was Graham's call."

Casey nodded. "Still, I am kind of getting concerned about not hearing from General Beck-"

"They're on the move!" Veronica interrupted him.

"Finally," Casey growled.

Casey pulled out of the Ford dealership just as the blinking tracker crossed their longitudinal position on the east-west street a half mile north of them. "On the road again, just can't wait to get back on the road again…"

Veronica looked at Casey in disbelief. "Major Casey!"

"What?"

"Please stop singing."

* * *

Sarah waited on the side of the street a block east of the intersection and waited until Casey turned left. "Alright, Major, let's see how good your counter-intelligence skills are," she muttered.

Chuck looked over at her. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Sarah smiled. "It has been FAR too long since I got to do something like this," she replied. "You BET I'm enjoying this."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, the Crown Vic was on I-5 headed north, toward Canada. "I'm surprised we haven't spotted them yet," Veronica mused.

"Traffic's pretty heavy, Mars," Casey replied. "And according to the tracker, they're still a ways ahead of us."

"That's true."

* * *

"So, if neither of them is picking up their phone, how do you plan to contact them?" Sarah asked. They were a quarter mile behind the Crown Vic.

"I can remotely access the Buy More switchboard," Chuck replied. "Casey won't ignore a call if it's coming from them. He can't afford to get into trouble at the Buy More – the NSA will rake his ass over the coals if he does."

Sarah nodded. "Very true." Then she smiled and shook her head. "You know, if Bryce hadn't gotten you kicked out of Stanford… you really would've made a great agent, you know that?"

Chuck actually blushed. "Nah," he said, waving the compliment off. "When we were actually working together, I screwed things up all the time."

"The physical end of things, maybe," Sarah argued. "But that's just because you never had the training. Your mental acumen, the way you see things – I mean, I'm not trying to pad your ego here, but you're brilliant. You can see your way around intelligence situations in a way that no other agent I've ever known can."

Chuck grinned from ear to ear. "Well, coming from the legendary Operative, I'll take that at face… value…"

His voice trailed off as Sarah's expression went from pleased to not-so-pleased. "Oh, shit."

"How did you know that nickname?" she asked through clenched teeth.

Chuck sighed. "How do you think?" He tapped his head.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

He shook his head. "Well, because when I found out, I thought you were dead, and when you came back, I had bigger things on my mind."

Sarah continued to give him a stern look – but then it broke, and she started laughing. "Oh, man, I had you going there for a moment," she said.

Chuck's jaw dropped. "Oh, you SUCK!" he said.

Sarah smiled. "Sorry, I couldn't resist. The look on your face – priceless."

She turned her attention back to the road. "Don't ever call me that again, though, or I'll kill you."

Chuck rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever. I'm sure you know fifty ways to do it, too."

"Over a hundred, actually. There's the Crown Vic. Time to make the call."

* * *

In Burbank, an automated system picked up. A moment later, a code was entered, giving the dialing phone remote access to the switchboard. Shortly after that, an outgoing call was placed from the line at the Nerd Herd desk.

Two seconds later, John Casey's phone began to ring. He glanced at it, saw the 818 area code, and was about to ignore it, when he realized that it was the Buy More trunk line. "Oh, hell," he muttered. He reached out and pushed a button, putting it on speakerphone. "This is Casey."

"JOHN CASEY!" the voice of Chuck Bartowski boomed into the car. "Damn, you're a difficult man to get a hold of!"

Casey rolled his eyes. "What do you want, Bartowski?"

"Listen, Sarah needs a favor. We're following this car that looks a little suspicious, and I was wondering if you could run the plate?"

Casey glanced at Veronica. She nodded, and began to pull up a program.

"Yeah, go ahead."

"Okay, it's California license plate five charlie alpha whiskey eight eight two," Chuck said. "2004 Ford Crown Victoria, maroon in color."

Casey's heart just about stopped, as he realized Chuck had just described the Crown Vic to a T. "Uh, I, I'm sorry, Bartowski, what?"

"When was the last time you checked your rear view mirror?"

Casey gritted his teeth. "Fuck," he breathed, and looked in the rear view mirror.

Sure enough, there was Sarah Walker's Porsche 911. Sarah smiled and waved, and Chuck gave him the finger.

Veronica's mouth had dropped open in disbelief. "How – they're supposed to be in front of us!" she said, indicating the screen.

"Hi, Veronica!" Chuck said cheerfully. "I'll explain in a moment. Take the next exit."

And so Casey got off at the next exit. He pulled into the parking lot of the Shell station by the side of the road, and Sarah's 911 followed him in.

Casey and Veronica got out of the Crown Vic, and Sarah and Chuck got out of the 911. "Alright, Bartowski, fair's fair," Casey growled. "How'd you find us?"

"In a moment," Chuck replied. "First things first. You."

He pointed at Veronica. Her eyebrows arched. "Yes, you. Come here."

A wary look in her eyes, she crossed the space between the two cars to Chuck – and when she reached him, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him, embracing her tightly. Definitely not what she had been expecting, but she certainly didn't object. She wrapped her arms around his back and sighed contentedly.

"I'm sorry if you felt like I had abandoned or betrayed you," he said quietly. "I really care about you, Veronica Mars. I think of you as one of my best friends, and I would never, ever want to hurt you. Okay?"

She smiled, and pulled back from him. Looking up at Chuck, Veronica said, "Okay."

Casey grunted. "Are you done?"

"Yes, Casey," Chuck replied, almost as if he was humoring a small child. "I suppose you'd like to know how we found you?"

"I imagine that was Walker's doing."

"Actually, no," Sarah replied. "It was all Chuck."

Chuck smiled and nodded. "I figured it out initially when we were between Carmel and Eureka," he told them. "I decided there had to be a reason why neither of you were answering your phones. We faked car trouble, pulled over, and saw you pass us.

"That night, while we were in Eureka, I figured out how you were tracking us – with nanotrackers in the fluids, right?"

Casey nodded grudgingly.

"Well, Sarah wanted to wait till we could actually go to a Porsche dealership to change the fluids. So, we decided to humor you a couple more days. We saw you again in Newport, but we ignored you. Then, last night, I snuck out after dark and slashed the right front tire."

Casey thought for a moment – "Of course!" he exploded. "I should've realized after that little stunt three weeks ago! That's your trademark!"

"Indeed it is," Chuck said. "So, we had it towed to the Porsche dealership, where they changed out ALL the fluids – even the air conditioning refrigerant – while they were changing the tires. They placed the used fluids on a disposal truck, which left the dealership right in front of us. After that, it was simply a matter of waiting for you to follow them and pull out in front of us, following you, and placing a remote call through the Buy More switchboard."

Casey and Veronica both stared at Chuck for a moment. Finally, Casey spoke.

"Not bad, Bartowski," he said, with a tone of grudging admiration in his voice. "Not bad at all."


	6. When Love Comes to Town

_**Chuck in a Moment**_

**Chapter 6: When Love Comes to Town**

**CAST (in order of appearance):**  
Chuck Bartowski – Zachary Levi  
Sarah Walker – Yvonne Strahovski  
John Casey – Adam Baldwin  
Langston Arthur Graham – Tony Todd  
Veronica Mars – Kristen Bell  
Logan Echolls – Jason Dohring

* * *

**9:02 P.M., Pacific Daylight Time  
Wednesday, July 8th, 2009  
Stanley Park, Vancouver, British Columbia**

Chuck and Sarah stood just beyond the seawall on the coast of Stanley Park. The moon hung low on the eastern horizon, a huge glowing ball of gold in the sky.

Sarah smiled. "Well, how about this," she said softly. "We're on a beach, and it's the full moon rising. You wouldn't happen to have a blue velvet box in your pocket, would you?"

"Nope," Chuck replied, with a devious grin.

Sarah's stomach just about dropped to her feet. "What?"

* * *

**Six Hours Beforehand  
3:00 P.M.  
Vancouver**

Sarah and Casey were on the videophone, talking to Director Graham about the last few days, and the fact that Sarah and Chuck had figured out exactly what was going on with Casey and Veronica tailing them. Chuck had taken advantage of the opportunity to get Veronica out and talk to her about his residual feelings.

There was a Starbucks a little more than a block from the Renaissance Hotel, and that's where Chuck and Veronica had gone. Veronica had gotten herself a simple caramel macchiato, whereas Chuck had gone for his usual sugarbomb venti java chip frappucino.

"I don't know how you can drink those things," Veronica said, rolling her eyes. "They make my teeth hurt just to think about them."

"They're GOOD!" Chuck insisted, sitting down on a stool at the counter overlooking the street. "And, it'll keep me awake all day!"

"Have you been having problems staying awake?" Veronica asked.

"I haven't been getting much sleep," Chuck replied.

Veronica rolled her eyes. "I'm aware."

Chuck winced. "Sorry," he said, an apologetic look on his face. "We were both kind of pissed off when we realized the two of you were following us, and we wanted to make you pay for it a little."

Veronica shook her head. "Yeah, I gathered that once we found out that you knew we were there. There was one, though… Yesterday morning, in Newport… um, you guys woke up and were a little friskier than usual… and I was listening, and, well…"

Chuck looked confused. "I'm not quite sure I get where you're going with this."

Veronica clenched her teeth and looked toward the ceiling. "Let's just say it, uh, got me hot under the collar and drove me to… extraordinary measures."

Chuck's eyes went wide and his face turned bright red. "Ohhh," he said. "My goodness."

"Yeah, and Casey caught me coming out of the bathroom."

Chuck clapped a hand to his mouth. "Oh my God," he muttered. "That is perhaps the most humiliating thing I've ever heard."

Veronica cocked her head and put on a fake smile. "Yeah, how do you think I felt?"

Chuck put both his hands to his face. "I am so sorry," he said quietly. "That wouldn't have happened if we hadn't…"

"Yeah, let's not worry about that," Veronica said, effectively ending that train of conversation. "What did you want to come down here to talk to me about?"

"Well," Chuck began uneasily, "I don't know if you've seen it yet, but…"

He pulled the blue velvet box out of his pocket and set it on the table. Veronica sighed. "Yeeeah," she said slowly. "Watched ya buy it."

Chuck nodded. "So I assume you know what it's for."

Veronica made a face and tapped the side of her head. "I am pretty smart," she said. "I sort of figured it out."

"Alright," Chuck said. "So, then, you understand, I want to ask Sarah to marry me."

"And you want me to be your best man?!" Veronica said, gleefully sarcastic. "Oh, Chuck, of course!"

Chuck just looked at her. "You're really making this difficult, you know that?"

"Wow, Chuck, I'm sorry," Veronica snapped, "but you know, two months ago, I thought you were in love with me. Then you dumped me in the middle of the night, then Sarah comes back from the dead –"

"Don't, DON'T drag her into this," Chuck interrupted angrily.

"I don't have anything against HER," Veronica shot back. "She came back because she was in love with an incredible guy! I can hardly fault her for THAT. But I can fault YOU. YOU helped her evade arrest, which, by the way, made me look pretty bad with the FBI. YOU ran off to Catalina with her for two fun-filled days of sun and debauchery. And when I finally caught up with you, what did I do? Why, I called up my friend Logan Echolls, who spent FIVE MILLION DOLLARS of his own money to get you and Sarah off the hook!

"After that, did I get so much as a 'thank you' or a, a, a 'I'll give you a call, we'll hang out sometime'? NO! You get in a Porsche with Sarah, and BOOM! You're gone! Director Graham tells me and Casey to get on your ass, and we spend the next three nights listening to the two of you having wild monkey sex in your hotel rooms!"

Veronica's voice had gotten progressively louder and louder, and she practically shouted the last part. That's when she realized she was standing up, and people were staring. With a huff, she sat back down.

"Wow," Chuck said dryly. "Impressive."

"You should see me when I REALLY get riled up," Veronica snarked.

"Yeah. Well, here's the thing, and this is probably gonna get you really riled up. I, uh, I still have a great deal of, um, feelings toward you. I had to talk to you, get them resolved before I could feel comfortable asking Sarah to marry me."

Veronica clasped her hands to either side of my head. "My GOD!" she said. "You're insane, you know that?! I can't handle this shit right now, Chuck! I just can't! You want to RESOLVE your feelings toward me?"

She leaned in toward him. "Well, resolve THIS, jackass." Veronica lifted her right hand, slowly extended the middle finger, and then put it right up in Chuck's face so she could see it.

Then, without a word, she got off of her stool, grabbed her coffee, and stormed out of the Starbucks without a backward glance.

Chuck sighed. "Shit."

* * *

**3:15 P.M.  
Neptune, California**

Logan Echolls was poolside. He had been for most of the day. It was good to be the Balboa County Commissioner.

He was in the process of laying in the sun and gleefully allowing the ultraviolet radiation to turn his skin into one gigantic carcinoma when his phone rang. With a sigh of disgust, he grabbed it off the table next to him and hit the talk button.

"Echolls' House of Love and Debauchery," he said. "What's your pleasure?"

"Dude, I fucked up. I need advice."

Logan sat up on his chaise lounge. "Why, Charles Bartowski. What did you fuck up? Don't tell me you have a dead prostitute in your hotel room."

There was a pause on the other end. "Very funny, Logan," Chuck replied. "No, I really, really pissed off Veronica."

Logan smiled. "Ah, my good man, then you should just kiss your nuts good-bye. Men who scorn the Mars usually get verbally castrated in public."

"Already happened, I think."

Logan was slightly taken aback. "Wow. What the hell did you say to her?"

"I'm planning on asking Sarah to marry me, but, I've got these lingering feelings for Veronica that I wanted to talk to her about first. All did not go as planned, and she called me a jackass and flipped me off in the middle of a Starbucks."

"Oh, that's not –"

Logan stopped. "Wait a second. You're in Vancouver. With Sarah. What the hell is Veronica doing in Vancouver?"

"Work, Logan, and that's all I can say," Chuck replied. "And before you even ask, yes, Sarah knew she was here."

"Okay, I won't ask any further," Logan replied. "But otherwise… seriously, the best thing you can do is wait a little while – at least an hour – until she blows off some steam, and then find her and apologize. Sincerely. Don't lie, don't BS her. She'll know, and then you'll be in even deeper shit. Just be sincere and honest. Trust me. I've had to do it, oh, about a million times."

Chuck sighed again. "Alright. I didn't even mean to make her angry in the first place. I just wanted to be honest with her."

"Dude, that's the thing you've got to understand about Veronica Mars," Logan told him. "She's a very passionate woman with a very short fuse. You spark that fuse one way, she will blow your mind. You spark it another, she'll just blow your brains out."

"So I've gathered," Chuck said wryly. "Okay. So apologize."

"And be sincere."

"Yes, Logan."

"That's County Supervisor Mr. Echolls to you, bud."

* * *

**6:15 P.M.**

Chuck had been looking for Veronica all afternoon. He was getting desperate, and upset. He was supposed to be meeting Sarah in the lobby at 6:30. He absolutely wanted to ask her tonight, and he REALLY wanted to talk to Veronica first.

So perhaps it was a stroke of providence that she was sitting in the lobby, working on her laptop when Chuck exited the elevator. Chuck took a deep breath, and walked straight toward her.

"Hey," he said quietly, approaching her.

She looked up and smiled. "Hi, jackass!"

Chuck's shoulders slumped, and he bit his lip. "Can we try that again?" he asked. "Hi."

She sighed and looked at the ground. "Hi, Chuck."

"Listen," he started, "I'm sorry about this afternoon. I was, um, a total asshole…"

"Yes, yes, you were."

"I know I've been making your life a little rough lately, and I really wish I hadn't. I especially wish that Sarah and I hadn't gone out of our way to make you guys uncomfortable."

Veronica smiled and looked at the ground. "Veronica," Chuck continued, "look. Everything I said about having feelings for you aside, I still really, really care about you. You're an amazing person, and without you, there's no way I would've made it through the few months after I met you."

Veronica looked up at him and nodded. "You're probably the most honest, most sincere person I've ever met, Chuck," she said with a smile. Then her smile got bigger. "You talked to Logan, didn't you?"

Chuck threw his hands up in the air. "Have I no secrets?"

"Well, in the interest of full disclosure…"

"Oh God. Now what?"

Veronica's smile got very coy just then, and she ducked her head a little. "Do you know what Sarah's real name is?"

Chuck held up his hand. "No, Veronica. Don't even go there. I don't care if you're an FBI agent, I can't tell you what her real name is."

Veronica laughed. "I already know what it is," she replied. "How do you think we found you guys on Catalina Island?"

"Oh." Chuck paused. "Okay," he conceded. "So, where are you going with this?"

"Her name's Elizabeth Reynolds," Veronica replied. "Do you remember what I told you my mom's maiden name was?"

Chuck thought for a moment. "Your mom's name is… Lianne…"

His eyes went wide and his jaw dropped. "NO. FREAKING. WAY."

Veronica nodded and bit her lower lip. "Lianne Reynolds," she completed for him. "Her cousin, Marcus… they weren't that terribly close, but she really looked up to him. He lived in Boston… and he had a daughter by the name of Elizabeth about five years before I was born."

Chuck smacked his hands against his forehead. "You're Sarah's COUSIN?!"

Veronica shrugged. "Second cousin. I didn't connect the dots myself until, oh, about two hours ago. A little research and, bada-bing, bada-boom."

Chuck shook his head. He felt a little dizzy. "This is… um…"

And that was the point at which the elevator doors opened and Sarah stepped out. She looked stunning.

"Wow," Chuck breathed, turning toward her. "You look… incredible."

Sarah smiled. "Well, thank you, Chuck. You look like… well, you look great. Just like you always do."

He grinned. "You ready to go?"

"Absolutely," Sarah replied. "Although, I need to talk to… my COUSIN… first."

Chuck gave Veronica a look of disbelief. "You TOLD her?!"

"Couple of hours ago," Sarah replied. "I couldn't believe it."

"No more!" Chuck groaned. "My head is going to explode!"

"Okay," Sarah said. "Then go outside while we talk."

Chuck shook his head and headed toward the door. "I'm surrounded by crazy people," he muttered as he left.

"So," Sarah said to Veronica. "You know what Chuck plans on asking me tonight, right?"

"I'm very aware," Veronica replied. "I won't lie and say that it's been the easiest thing for me to deal with, but I'm glad that he's going to be happy."

"Well, then… I mean, if you're okay with it… um, how would you feel about being one of my bridesmaids? I mean, as the only relative I even know about on this side of the country, I would ask you to be my maid of honor, but…"

Sarah sighed. "Ellie Woodcomb has always been really, very kind to me. She accepted me into her family, and she always had the highest hopes for me and Chuck. I more than deserved the fact that she whaled on me when I showed back up, but… I think I owe it to her, and to Chuck, to see if she'd be willing to be the matron of honor."

Veronica nodded. "I completely understand, Sarah." Then her face broke into a smile. "And yes, I would be honored."

She put a hand on Sarah's shoulder. "Now, I think it's time for you to go get engaged."

* * *

**9:02 P.M., Pacific Daylight Time  
Wednesday, July 8th, 2009  
Stanley Park, Vancouver, British Columbia**

That night had been really fun. They'd been to dinner at an incredible Italian restaurant, and spent most of the last half hour exploring Stanley Park.

Now they stood just beyond the seawall on the coast. The moon hung low on the eastern horizon, a huge glowing ball of gold in the sky.

Sarah smiled. "Well, how about this," she said softly. "We're on a beach, and it's the full moon rising. You wouldn't happen to have a blue velvet box in your pocket, would you?"

"Nope," Chuck replied, with a devious grin.

Sarah's stomach just about dropped to her feet. "What?"

Chuck held up his left hand. The moonlight sparkled off the tip of his pinky finger.

She shook her head and laughed – but the laugh was cut off as Chuck slowly bent to one knee. The smile on his face almost glowed in the moonlight. He took her left hand in his right hand, slipped the ring off of his pinky finger, and onto her left ring finger.

"So, Sarah Walker," he said quietly. "I've been thinking for a while now. You know, since, well, since I met you. I have this odd, overwhelming desire to spend the rest of my life with you. These last few days have been the best time of my life, and I really would like for every day to be like that."

He couldn't help it. The smile on his face got even bigger. "Sarah, how would you feel about spending the rest of your life with me?"

She smiled back coyly. "You mean…"

"Sarah Walker, will you marry me?"

She nodded, her smile growing to the same size as his. "Absolutely."


	7. The Wanderer

_**Chuck in a Moment**_

**Chapter 7: The Wanderer**

**CAST (in order of appearance):**  
Veronica Mars – Kristen Bell  
Keith "Ebbets" van Eller – BJ Novak  
Chuck Bartowski – Zachary Levi  
Agent Shea – Zachary Quinto  
Sarah Walker – Yvonne Strahovski  
Canadian Mounted Police Officer – Brendan Fraser  
Langston Arthur Graham – Tony Todd  
Diane Louisa Beckman – Bonita Fredericy

* * *

**3:07 P.M., Pacific Daylight Time  
Wednesday, July 8th, 2009  
Vancouver, British Columbia**

"My GOD! You're insane, you know that?! I can't handle this shit right now, Chuck! I just can't! You want to RESOLVE your feelings toward me?"

Keith van Eller looked over the top of his New York Times at the source of the noise. He rolled his eyes and shook his head. Yet another twenty-something yuppie couple having some sort of argument over their coffee. It was EXACTLY why he had left Washington and moved to Vancouver.

"Well, resolve THIS, jackass." Keith looked again, and smiled slightly as the little blonde extended her middle finger and stuck it in the guy's face. He went back to the Times for a second – and then looked over the top of the paper in astonishment. There was NO WAY.

He stayed in his seat, quiet, until the guy had left the Starbucks. Then, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number he had memorized years before.

"This is Shea," he heard.

"Ebbets," he replied. "You're not gonna believe this, but I just saw target 47… and target 1."

In Brooklyn, New York, the man code-named Shea sat straight up in his chair. "Target 47 is a hell of a find," he said quietly. "But you found target number ONE?!"

"Yeah," van Eller replied. "I think they're involved somehow."

"You're in Vancouver, right?" Shea asked.

"That's affirmative."

"Alright. Keep an eye on them. Don't let them get away."

* * *

**9:07 P.M.  
Stanley Park, Vancouver**

Keith Van Eller was hidden behind the treeline. He couldn't believe what he had just seen. It was target 1, on one knee, proposing to a blonde woman – a blonde woman who was clearly NOT target 47.

"What the hell is this?" he asked himself.

Then the blonde woman turned around. "Oh my God, it's the Operative," he whispered.

He backed away, disappearing back into the trees, and pulled out his self phone again. "Jesus Christ, it's after midnight. What the fuck is it?" he heard.

"Shea, this is Ebbets. We've got a problem. Target 1, and I'm assuming target 47, are in the company of the Operative."

Van Eller could hear Shea sigh. "It's not a problem," he replied. "We'll just take… um, irregular measures."

* * *

**11:42 A.M., Pacific Daylight Time  
Saturday, July 11th, 2009  
Peace Arch Border Crossing, British Columbia  
US-Canada Border**

It wasn't nearly so complicated as getting back into the United States here as it was from Mexico. Nonetheless, there was a bit of a line.

The real surprise came when a Royal Mounted Police truck pulled up behind the Porsche and turned on its lights. A moment later, one pulled up behind the Crown Vic in the next lane over and did the same thing.

"What the hell?" asked Sarah. Nonetheless, she pulled the Porsche off to the side of the road, followed by the Crown Vic. She rolled down the window as the Mountie approached.

"Sarah Walker, Charles Bartowski?" he asked.

"Yeah, that's us."

"Sarah Walker and Charles Bartowski, you are under arrest for being in possession of illegal firearms within Canada. Please step out of the car."

Chuck looked over at Sarah and mouthed, _What the hell is this?_

She shook her head and mouthed back, _I have no idea_.

Sarah had not brought any guns along with her. Chuck sure as HELL hadn't brought any. And if the Mounties could find all the tiny pieces bolted to the transmission that assembled into a .22 rifle, then they were welcome to it.

She wasn't so sure about Casey and Veronica. They both looked rather unhappy as they were herded out of the Crown Vic. "This is not good," Sarah muttered.

The Mounties waved a pair of tow trucks in. One backed up to the Crown Vic, and a flatbed pulled in front of the Porsche. "If there's one scratch on that thing, I will burn Canada to the ground!" Sarah shouted angrily as the tow truck driver got out and began manhandling her precious 911.

"Ms. Walker, it would be advisable for you to shut up," the Mountie behind her said.

* * *

Two hours later, all four of them were locked in an interrogation room. They hadn't seen a soul since they were arrested.

"I don't know how the law goes here, but in the US, we're entitled to a lawyer. Hell, we SHOULD be entitled to a consular visit," Veronica complained.

"This violates international treaty up the ASS," Casey grumbled.

Sarah just shook her head and looked across the table at them both. "How many guns did they two of you have in the Crown Vic?"

"Not one," Veronica replied. "At least, I didn't."

"I didn't either," Casey said. Sarah stared at him for a moment, and Casey stared right back. "Seriously! Do I look like I've lost my mind?"

"Okay," Chuck said. "So if none of us had guns, then why in heaven's name would somebody have told them that we did?"

"Well," Casey sighed, "if I were a bettin' man, I'd say Fulcrum's involved with this somehow."

"Oh, come on, Casey," Chuck replied. "According to Bryce, Fulcrum has pretty much disappeared in the last ten days. Like, POOF. They all left the country."

"Well, we're not IN the country, are we?"

"We're close enough," Sarah interjected. "They wouldn't be that stupid."

"You never know," Veronica said. "They're criminals, and I know the criminal mind. Criminals tend to be, well, dumb."

Casey started to say something, but Chuck cut him off. "What's that?"

"What's what?" Sarah asked.

"That," Chuck said, pointing to thin, wispy white tendrils coming out of the vent in the ceiling.

"OH SHIT!" Casey shouted. "Cover your mouths and noses, try not to breathe!

Sarah ran to the door and started pounding on it. "OPEN THE DOOR!" she screamed. "OPEN THE DOOR!"

"What's going on?!" Veronica asked, her eyes wide with fear.

"Somebody's gassing us, that's what!" Casey yelled back from behind his shirt. "Now everybody SHUT UP! Get as close to floor as you can! Try to breathe as little as possible! If you must breathe, breathe through your shirt!"

Sarah, Chuck, and Veronica all did as he instructed. Casey picked up the chair he had been sitting in and hurled it at the mirrored window. It simply bounced off. "Goddammit!" he yelled, and then he staggered. "Oh, no…"

Casey collapsed to the floor.

"Chuck?" Veronica said, but her voice sounded weak. "Chuck… I'm feeling weird…"

"Veronica, stop… talking…" Sarah gasped. She felt weird too. "No…"

She started to crawl toward Chuck, but her legs weren't working. She pulled herself over to him.

Chuck looked at her, his face full of fear. "Sarah…" he said, his voice strangled.

"I'm here," she said, tears beginning to spill down her face. She reached her left hand out for his hand, and laced her fingers through his.

"I… I… love you…"

"No, Chuck, we're gonna get through this…"

"Sarah, please…"

"Chuck, I love you too…"

And the world went black.

* * *

**3:17 P.M., Pacific Daylight Time  
Lincoln Park, Blaine, Washington, USA**

Sarah's eyes flew open – and immediately squeezed back shut. The light was too bright.

Ever so slowly, she cracked her eyes back open. She was in a car. Not her car, though. It was Casey's Crown Vic. She was sitting on the passenger side.

It hurt to turn her head – but sitting in the driver's seat was John Casey. He was still unconscious. Sarah tried to move – and quickly found that her left wrist was handcuffed to Casey's right wrist.

_Her left hand!_ She gasped and extended her fingers – the ring was still there.

"What the hell is going on?" she croaked.

The sound of her voice was enough to waken John Casey. "What the hell happened?" he asked.

"No idea whatsoever."

"Hey, isn't that your Porsche over there?"

Sarah turned her head and looked out her window. Sure enough, it was her 911 parked at the other end of the empty parking lot. The Porsche appeared to be empty. "Yes, it certainly is," she replied, grabbing the door handle and opening the door –

And the Porsche exploded. The fireball erupted from the engine compartment in the back of the car. The force of the explosion flipped the car over, and it came to rest on its top, burning, on what appeared to be a playground.

"Jesus Christ," breathed Casey – and then a phone rang.

It was Sarah's phone, on the floor in front of her. She reached down – and it was a bit of a stretch, being handcuffed to Casey, but she reached the phone anyway. She picked it up –

It was Chuck. "Oh my God," she whispered, hitting the call button. "CHUCK!"

"Not quite, Operative," she heard a mechanically altered voice say. "Mr. Bartowski and Ms. Mars are… safe. Your Porsche was a warning. Don't attempt to find them. If you do… there will be consequences."

Before Sarah could say anything more, the call was disconnected. "What the hell was that?" Casey asked.

"I don't know," Sarah replied. "But we need to find a police station. And we need to call Director Graham."

* * *

**7:01 P.M., Eastern Daylight Time  
CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia**

Arthur Graham, director of the CIA, boarded the elevator on the administration floor. He stuck a keycard into the elevator's card reader. When it flashed green, he withdrew the card and pushed the button for level B4.

Sub-Basement Four. Nearly one hundred feet below the surface of the earth. Legend had it that if you went down there, you didn't come back up.

Legend was nearly correct. Occasionally, an interrogator went down there and came back up. Right at the moment, Art Graham was about to be one of those interrogators.

He strode down the dimly lit corridor until he arrived at the room he was looking for. Room B404. He nodded to the guard who had accompanied him. The guard entered a sixteen-digit code into the keypad by the door, and a buzzer sounded as the door unlocked.

Graham opened the door and stepped in. The room was sparsely but comfortably appointed. A small bathroom. A desk. A chair, a bed. A veritable library of books. Paper, and pens the CIA had engineered so that there was absolutely no way they could be used as weapons.

A woman sat in the chair in the middle of the room. When she heard the door open, she turned around.

"Hello, Arthur," said Louisa Beckman, former director of the National Security Agency and former commander of the organization known as Fulcrum. She smiled. "It's only been nine days, and yet already you've come to see me. How sweet."

Graham did not return the smile. He dispensed completely with preliminaries. "Bartowski and Mars were kidnapped while waiting to cross back into the country near Vancouver," he said. "I want to know what the hell happened to them."

"Quid pro quo, Director Graham," Beckman said sweetly.

"Okay," Graham said simply, nodding. He turned around and walked back into the hallway, and when he came back into the cell, he had the guard with him. Graham seized Beckman's arm, dragged her to the desk, and slammed her arm down on it.

"Now, here's your quid pro quo," Graham hissed. "For every answer you give me, I let you keep your fingers. Every time I think you're lying, my friend here shoots one of them off."

That got Beckman's attention very quickly. "You said they were taken in Canada?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"That is, in fact, what I said."

Beckman smiled again. "Then you're never gonna see them again," she replied.

"Why the hell not?"

She cocked her head and looked at Graham. "There's a Fulcrum base in Saskatchewan," she replied. "It's an auxiliary field for Moose Jaw Air Force Base. That's where they'll be. But you'll never get in there. There's not a chance."

Graham looked down at her. "And what exactly makes you think that?"

"Oh, Arthur, I envy your innocence sometimes," Beckman replied with a smile. "If you knew that I was the commander of Fulcrum…

"Then how could you not have known that the Prime Minister of Canada was Fulcrum's second in command?"

_To be continued..._


	8. Where the Streets Have No Name

_**Chuck in a Moment**_

**Chapter 8: Where the Streets Have No Name**

**CAST (in order of appearance):**  
Chuck Bartowski – Zachary Levi  
Veronica Mars – Kristen Bell  
Corporal Hernandez – Jon Huertas  
Airman Reynard – Michael Weston  
Sarah Walker – Yvonne Strahovski  
John Casey – Adam Baldwin  
Langston Arthur Graham – Tony Todd

_**Author's note:**__ with the exception of the city of Lloydminster (which straddles the provincial border with Alberta) and immediate vicinity, the province of Saskatchewan does not observe Daylight Savings Time._

* * *

**12:30 P.M., Central Standard Time  
Sunday, July 12th, 2009  
Near Beauval, Saskatchewan, Canada**

Chuck Bartowski came to wakefulness very, very slowly. His head was pounding.

The light seemed extraordinarily bright as he exposed his eyes to it, but it seemed that if he just opened his eyes the slightest bit at a time, they SLOWLY adjusted to the light.

Finally, he had his eyes completely open. Looking around, he took in his surroundings.

He was sitting in a rather comfortable easy chair in what appeared to be a faux-rustic log cabin. It looked like he was in what passed for a living room. All the furniture was earth tones. A forty-two inch plasma TV hung from the wall, with what appeared to be a 7.1 channel sound system arrayed around the living room.

Chuck was getting rather confused. Stepping towards the television, he discovered a cabinet below it. He opened it, and there was a Playstation 3, a Blu-Ray DVD player, the amplifier that controlled the sound system, and –

Wow. Damn good DVD selection. Good game selection, too.

Where the hell was he?

He stood up, and headed for what appeared to be the kitchen. On his way there, he passed a mirror –

What the hell?!

Chuck looked down at himself. "Why am I dressed like the Brawny paper towel guy?"

A red and black plaid flannel shirt, blue jeans, and hiking boots was not Chuck's ordinary wardrobe choice. But that's how he was dressed right at that moment.

"I'm hallucinating," Chuck muttered. "That must be it."

He stepped into the kitchen. An industrial size stainless-steel refrigerator dominated one wall of the kitchen. Chuck opened it –

"Okay, much better stocked than mine usually is." And so it was. Plenty of food, along with a rather significant supply of Mountain Dew, Rockstars, Corona, bottled water…

Chuck wrinkled his nose. "But I don't drink Diet Coke, wine coolers, or those disgusting bottled frappucinos," he objected. "Why are those in here?"

Sarah, maybe? But no… Sarah liked Diet Coke, Sarah was a fan of the occasional wine cooler… but Sarah wouldn't touch anything that came from Starbucks with a ten foot pole.

Veronica would, though, Chuck realized. "What the hell is going on?" he asked himself, shaking his head.

Why in God's name was he in a log cabin? Grabbing one of the bottles of water in the hopes that it would ease the pounding in his head, Chuck cracked it open and took a sip. Ah, that was good. He hadn't quite realized how thirsty he was up until that moment.

He crossed back through the living room to the front door. He pulled the door open and stepped outside.

Wherever he was, it was a beautiful day. The sky was blue, the sun was shining bright. Not a cloud in the sky. It was a bit cooler than he was used to, especially at this time of year – the temperature was probably in the mid-60s or so, but the flannel shirt more than compensated for that.

The cabin was in a wooded area – mostly aspen trees, but there were some pines and spruces as well. Chuck walked down the short dirt path in front of the house. It led to another dirt path, about as wide as a narrow street. On the other side of that path was a thin layer of trees, and then a wide expanse of concrete that greatly resembled a runway. On the other side of the runway, though, was something a little more ominous.

A chain link fence with a razor wire top ran along the runway as far as Chuck could see in either direction. Rotating red lights topped the posts every fifty feet or so, and brilliant red signs were posted on the fence that read, "DANGER: 100,000 VOLTS."

"What is this place?" Chuck turned around, and saw that there was a cabin that outwardly appeared identical to his own every hundred feet, in a grid five by five. His was in the first row, second from the left hand end. Beyond the cabins, there were several larger structures, and beyond the structures, he could see a fence identical to the one on the other side of the runway.

Chuck didn't know what was going on, but he sure as hell didn't like it. This was starting to creep him out a bit. He started to head back inside the cabin, when something moving above one of the buildings caught his attention.

The Canadian flag, flapping in the wind.

And that's when it all came back to him. The images appeared in his mind like an Intersect flash, but it was his own memories. Being stopped at the border crossing. Arrested on bogus charges of illegal arms possession. Detained for two hours without a word. Gassed in the interrogation room. Sarah's hand slipping into his own…

"Oh my God," he whispered. They'd finally caught up with him. Who THEY were, he had no idea. It could be the government, could be Fulcrum… who knew.

But something didn't quite add up. Shaking his head, Chuck headed back inside the cabin. Crossing the living room, he turned left to the door of the one room he hadn't been in yet.

Quietly opening the door, he stepped inside the bedroom. A king size bed dominated the room, and a dark blue down comforter covered the bed. Almost disappearing amidst the enormity of the bed, the tiny frame of Veronica Mars lay in the middle, all but her head concealed underneath the comforter.

Chuck smiled at how innocent the diminutive FBI agent always looked when she was asleep, and how drastically that appearance differed from her real persona. When she was awake, she was a hardened, jaded, angry young woman who had been through more by the time she graduated high school than most people would go through in their entire lives. But underneath that, there was still a sweet, kind woman, and it was the inner Veronica that had made Chuck's life so difficult these last few weeks.

He sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. The slight movement was enough to wake Veronica.

Chuck heard her yawn, and turned to face her. Her arms appeared from under the comforter, stretching upwards as she came to wakefulness. Her eyes cracked open, and she saw Chuck sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Well…" she whispered. "An unexpected but not unwelcome sight to wake up to."

Chuck smiled slightly. "Although, why are you dressed like a lumberjack?"

Chuck laughed softly and shook his head. "I have no idea," he replied. "I woke up dressed like this."

Veronica started to sit up – and then froze. "Then you have an advantage over me," she said, her right eyebrow rising, "because I seem to be naked."

"Seem to be?" Chuck asked.

"AM," Veronica shot back. "Check the closet, see if there's anything in there I can wear."

Chuck opened the closet – "Oh my good Lord," he said. Sure enough, one side of the closet was full of clothes that appeared to be his, and they were ALL in the same style as what he was wearing at that moment. Veronica's side contained decidedly more feminine clothing, but it was certainly not what she would ordinarily wear.

"Oh, joy," he heard her say sarcastically. "I get to look like hick white trash here – speaking of which, where the hell is here?"

"We're somewhere in Canada," Chuck replied.

Veronica laughed. "Wow," she replied. "That REALLY narrows it down. We're somewhere in the second largest country in the world. Congratulations, Mr. Intersect. Are you telling me that nothing out there made you flash?"

Chuck just stared at her. "Sometimes, you're an ass."

Veronica shrugged. "I've been called worse. Now get out. I want to get dressed."

"Yeah," Chuck cracked, "because I've never seen you naked before."

"OUT!"

* * *

Fifteen minutes, Chuck was back where he started – sitting in the easy chair in the living room. He was working on his second bottle of water, when Veronica came out of the bedroom. He turned around to look at her – and almost choked on his mouthful of water.

She did not look pleased. She was barefoot, with a pair of loose jeans and a bulky cable-knit fisherman's sweater on. "Well," she grumbled, "I look like an idiot."

Chuck raised an eyebrow and did his best not to laugh. "I have no comment," he said.

Veronica narrowed her eyes and gave him a mocking smile. "Good call."

She collapsed on the couch. "So, what's going on?"

"Well," Chuck replied, "we've clearly been kidnapped. For what reason, I have no idea. I also have no idea what happened to Sarah and Casey… but I'm trying not to think about that."

He paused for a moment. Veronica could see the calm façade starting to crack a little bit, but Chuck took a deep breath, and smiled. "I don't know who took us, but if I had to guess, I'd say it was Fulcrum. It would make no sense for the CIA to put us somewhere in Canada, and it's like I said when we were at the border station – Bryce Larkin told me that Fulcrum pretty much disappeared from the United States."

"Okay," Veronica said. "So, I understand why they kidnapped you. You're the priceless Intersect. But why me?"

Chuck shrugged and spread his hands. "No idea," he replied. "I mean, I have a theory, but I don't think you'll like it."

Veronica smiled and shook her head. "Come on, Chuck. I've heard all kinds of rotten shit in my time. Hit me with your best shot."

Chuck nodded. "I think they brought you here to keep me entertained."

That statement did not amuse Veronica. "Well. That's lovely. I'm your plaything – your sex toy."

"Do you have a theory that makes sense? I mean, mine barely clings to the ragged edge of logic as it is!"

She shook her head again. "But why me? If they wanted to have a woman here to keep you happy and entertained, why not grab Sarah? I mean, surely they had to know you're engaged."

"Are you kidding?" Chuck said. "Fulcrum, bring a CIA legend onto one of their bases? They suck, but they're not insane."

He sighed. "Anyway, there's a thirty foot tall, razor-wire topped electrified fence running around the base. We're not getting out of here unless they take us out of here."

And then, there was a knock on the front door. "Uh… come in?"

The door opened, and two men in uniform stepped in. "Mr. Bartowski, Ms. Mars, good afternoon," one of them said. "Would you come with us, please?"

Chuck looked at them, his eyes narrowing. "You're Canadian Air Force!" he said in astonishment.

"Yes, sir, yes we are," the man who had spoken replied. "Now, I'd appreciate it if you and Ms. Mars could please come with us."

"I need to put shoes on," Veronica replied. She headed toward the bedroom, and reappeared a moment later, grimacing at the hiking boots on her feet.

She and Chuck followed the two airmen outside. A blue Jeep Cherokee, with the insignia of the Canadian Air Force on the door, was parked on the dirt path between the cabin and the runway. The airmen opened the two back doors, holding them open for Chuck and Veronica.

Chuck leaned over to Veronica as they got into the Jeep, and spoke quickly and quietly. "I think things just got a little more complicated."

* * *

**12:00 P.M., Pacific Daylight Time  
Seattle, Washington**

Sarah and Casey sat on a bed in a room at the Fairmont Olympic Hotel. Arthur Graham sat on the other bed, facing them. His face was downcast.

"There's not much we can do right at the moment," he said quietly. "They're on a Fulcrum base fairly deep inside Canada."

"So what's the problem?" Sarah asked insistently. "We go in there, we extract them. End of story."

"It's not that simple," Graham replied. "It's an active Canadian Air Force field. Conducting an operation against it would constitute an act of war."

"So what the hell do we do?" Casey protested. "We can't just sit here while Fulcrum does God-knows-what to Bartowski and Mars!"

"We don't have a choice," Graham said. "Right now, all that we can do is have the President lodge a diplomatic protest with the Canadian government, but I don't think that even that is going to do us much good."

"Why the hell not?" Sarah replied. "Aren't we on generally friendly terms with Canada?"

"For the most part, yes," was the answer. "However… I have a little birdie formerly known as Fulcrum Command locked in the basement of Langley who tells me that the second in command, who is now technically Fulcrum Command, was the Prime Minister of Canada."

Sarah and Casey's jaws both dropped as they stared at Graham. "The Prime Minister of Canada is in charge of Fulcrum?" Sarah finally asked.

Casey shook his head. "So, who was the old Fulcrum Command, and how'd you get your hands on him?"

"Uh, her, actually," Graham said, inclining his head toward Casey.

His face took on a look of disgust. "GENERAL BECKMAN?!"

Graham nodded. "Forget you ever heard that, Major Casey. In fact, both of you need to just forget about all of this for now. Go back to Los Angeles, and wait for word from me."

He rose and crossed to the hotel room door. "Take no action. Don't do anything stupid. Don't start a war."

Sarah stood to her feet. "Come on, Director Graham," she objected, "do you honestly think we'd start a war to get Chuck and Veronica back?"

He looked at her, and then at Casey. "Major Casey, no. I don't think he would. You, on the other hand…"

Director Graham looked Sarah in the eyes. "I definitely think you would."


	9. One

_**Chuck in a Moment**_

**Chapter 9: One**

**CAST (in order of appearance):**  
Chuck Bartowski – Zachary Levi  
Corporal Hernandez – Jon Huertas  
Airman Reynard – Michael Weston  
Veronica Mars – Kristen Bell  
Dr. Martin Ducard – Christoph Waltz  
Sarah Walker – Yvonne Strahovski  
John Casey – Adam Baldwin  
Logan Echolls – Jason Dohring  
Keith Mars – Enrico Colantoni

* * *

**1:10 P.M., Central Standard Time  
Sunday, July 12th, 2009  
near Beauval, Saskatchewan, Canada**

As the Jeep Cherokee bumped along the dirt path, nobody spoke for the first couple minutes. But before they reached the end of the grid of cabins, Chuck's curiosity got the best of him.

"Uh, if you're allowed to tell me, where are we at?"

The two Canadian airmen looked at each other. Then, the one riding shotgun turned to Chuck. "Well, you're not going to escape, and you have no way of communicating with the outside world, so there's no harm in it, I suppose. You're at Lac la Plonge Auxiliary Air Field. We're an adjunct to Fifteen Wing at Canadian Forces Base Moose Jaw."

The words _Moose Jaw_ triggered a brief flash from the Intersect, but it was quick enough that Chuck's momentary silence escaped notice. "So we're up toward northern Saskatchewan, then," he said.

The airman nodded. "Yeah, we're right on the edge of the Canadian Shield," he replied.

Chuck shook his head wryly. "I have no idea what that is, Airman…"

"Hernandez," the airman replied. "And it's actually Corporal."

"Sorry about that," Chuck replied. "I'm not familiar with US military insignia, let alone Canadian ones. Now, do you have any idea why we've been kidnapped by the Canadian Air Force?"

Corporal Hernandez looked uneasy. "Um… I'm afraid we can't discuss that with you, sir. But, you should know, you're our guest here. We'll do everything we possibly can to make you comfortable."

"Would that happen to include a cell phone and a computer with Internet access?"

Hernandez shook his head, a small smile on his face. "Sorry, sir, you should already know that that's not possible. However, if you're curious, your laptops are both in the cabin. They're in the drawer of the coffee table in the living room. They have, of course, both had their wireless Internet cards removed, in addition to any other devices that could possibly be used for communication."

Chuck sighed. "And thank you for voiding the warranty on my computer."

Hernandez looked like he was going to say something more, but at that moment, the Jeep pulled up in front of one of the buildings in the complex. "We're here."

He and the other airman jumped out and opened the back doors. Chuck and Veronica both disembarked from the Jeep, and followed Hernandez into the building.

They were led down a hallway that smelled distinctly like a medical clinic. "Are we in the base hospital?" Chuck asked.

Hernandez laughed. "Hardly a hospital," he replied. "There's only ninety-five people total on the base, including both civilians and military personnel. It's really closer to being an urgent care clinic than anything else. Real medical problems we take down to Moose Jaw."

_Ninety-five people_, Chuck thought, filing the information away.

Hernandez opened a door, admitting Chuck and Veronica to a rather nicely appointed office. "Doctor Ducard will be right with you," Corporal Hernandez told them. "If you need anything, Airman Reynard and I are right outside."

He shut the door, leaving them alone in the doctor's office. Chuck quickly looked around – no phone. What a surprise.

"We're not getting out of here," Veronica told him. "Just sit down and wait for this Doctor Ducard, whoever he is."

The two sat down in the plush chairs facing Ducard's desk. A couple minutes later, the door opened and he entered the office. "My apologies for my tardiness," he said hurriedly upon entering the room. His voice held just a trace of a Quebecois accent. "Martin Ducard. It's a real pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bartowski, Agent Mars."

Chuck gave him a look of displeasure and said, "You'll forgive me if I don't stand and shake your hand, Doctor Ducard. You see, I'm not generally accustomed to being taken somewhere against my will. I'm especially not pleased with the fact that I don't know what the status of my friends who were with me in Vancouver is."

Ducard raised an eyebrow and sat behind his desk. "I can assure you that Major Casey and Agent Walker are perfectly fine, Mr. Bartowski."

Chuck closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you," he said quietly.

"Of course," Ducard replied. "Now, I imagine you're both wondering why you're here."

"Yeah," Veronica snarked. "Just a bit."

"Well," Ducard continued, "you're both on a list of highly desirable individuals who we have been keeping track of for the last two years – Ms. Mars, you for your keen intellect and your nearly perfect genetic code; Mr. Bartowski, you, of course, for your prized ability as the Intersect."

"'We' being Fulcrum?" Chuck asked, a trace of sarcasm in his voice.

Ducard was clearly not expecting that question. "Indeed," he finally said. "You see, the Prime Minister was the second in command of Fulcrum, and when the commander of Fulcrum disappeared ten days ago, he took control and decided to put the Humanity Project into motion."

"The commander of Fulcrum disappeared ten days ago?" Chuck asked, somewhat curious.

"I believe you knew her as General Louisa Beckman," Doctor Ducard replied.

Chuck and Veronica both shot out of their chairs. "SON OF A BITCH!" Veronica yelled, while Chuck said, "BECKMAN?!"

Ducard rose slowly, indicating with his hands that they should sit down. "Please, sit," he said calmly. "We are here not to discuss General Beckman, but rather your role in the Humanity Project."

"Okay," Chuck said, returning to his seat. "I'll bite. What's the Humanity Project?"

Ducard smiled. "The Humanity Project was actually my brainchild," he replied. "We made a target list of fifty individuals across Canada, the United States, and Mexico who we believed to be of nearly perfect genetic stock. We intend to use these fifty individuals to breed a new race of humans. Not to replace mankind, of course, but to make humans better."

Chuck's jaw dropped. "Holy shit," he whispered. "Who the hell was your hero as a kid? Josef Mengele?"

Ducard cocked an eyebrow. "Among others," he said. "I am a scientist, Mr. Bartowski. I think in terms of science."

"Wait, wait, wait," Veronica interrupted. "Setting aside the fact that you're one sick and damaged motherfucker, why in heaven's name would you take me, being practically a midget, and not somebody like, say, Sarah Walker? I mean, she's Amazon Warrior Woman, for God's sake!"

Ducard nodded. "A valid question," he said, ignoring Veronica's insult. "We did consider Agent Walker. She is, as you indicated, a beautiful specimen of human being. However, here's the difference between her and you. You, as you said, are short. That is controlled by a gene that can be switched on in vitro."

"In vitro?" Veronica asked. "As in, in the womb?"

"Of course," Ducard replied, looking completely serious. "As I said, we're looking to breed a new race. Now, as far as Agent Walker goes, she seems to be perfect, but she does have one genetic defect."

Chuck felt like the blood drained from his head. "What? What kind of genetic defect?"

"Oh, don't worry, Mr. Bartowski, it's not that serious. There is a variance in the seventeenth chromosome of her genetic makeup. It's a tau protein called the H1 haplotype. This has been linked to individuals with a terminal disease known as Progressive Supranuclear Palsy. Now, the disease is extremely rare – only 1 in 17,000 people is diagnosed with it, and victims usually don't experience onset until their mid-sixties. However, even the slightest risk of onset was enough to eliminate her from the program."

Chuck shook his head. "I'm sure she'd be crushed to hear she escaped from your version of Auschwitz-Birkenau," he spat.

Ducard was silent for a moment. "May I assume that you don't approve of this project, Mr. Bartowski?" he finally asked.

"You may assume that," Chuck replied. "This is sick. Humans are supposed to evolve and adapt, not be engineered."

Ducard spread his hands. "This is evolution, Mr. Bartowski. This is the advancement of the human race. And to further that cause, you will be mating with Ms. Mars. We feel that –"

"THE HELL!" Veronica shouted, springing up from her chair.

"Ms. Mars, computer models have projected that your genetic stock combined with Mr. Bartowski's will produce an individual who is tall, attractive, has excellent musculature, a high metabolic rate, low risk of chronic disease, and most importantly, the ability to retain subliminal education," Ducard said patiently. "It's a logical fit."

Chuck looked at Ducard in disbelief. "You know what," he finally said, "take my sperm, take Veronica's eggs – whatever. But there's not gonna be any 'mating'."

"Were it only that easy," Ducard replied. "No, the copulation and conception must be performed naturally. The pregnancy must be carried naturally. Certain hormones are released during these acts that allow the fetus to develop in a more healthy manner."

"I don't think you get it," Chuck replied with a harsh laugh. "I'm telling you, I'm refusing to be part of your monstrosity."

"Do you now," Ducard said, his voice low and dangerous. "Very well, Mr. Bartowski. Should you choose to continue your refusal, then I will dissect Ms. Mars alive, while you watch."

A fist of horror and dread punched Chuck in the stomach. His jaw dropped open and the color drained from his face. "You – what?!"

Veronica had frozen in her chair in fear, but now, as she heard Chuck speak, she started to cry. "You can't do this, you sick fucker!" Chuck shouted.

"Oh, but I can, and I WILL," Ducard replied, a trace of anger finally appearing in his voice as he rose to his feet. "Now, Mr. Bartowski, you have a choice. You can either participate in this program and have sex with Ms. Mars, or you can watch as I torture and kill her. What's it gonna be?"

Chuck rose to his feet as well. "You are an evil bastard, and I hope you rot in hell," he said softly, leaning in to Ducard. Then he leaned back, pulled his right hand back, and punched Ducard in the face as hard as he could.

Ducard staggered backward and collapsed to the floor. When he looked up, his nose was bleeding, but there was a smile on his face. "Can I take that as a yes, Mr. Bartowski?"

"Just to be clear, I'm not doing it for the benefit of your ungodly project," Chuck snarled. "I'm doing it so that you don't kill her."

And with that, he took Veronica by the hand, wrenched the door open, and guided her out of the office. Airman Reynard quickly stepped out in front of them, guiding them out of the building. Corporal Hernandez looked into Ducard's office, shook his head, and walked off after Chuck.

When they got in the Jeep, Hernandez looked back at Chuck and Veronica in the back seat. Veronica was still crying softly, and Chuck's hands were shaking in anger. "I'm really sorry about all this," Hernandez said quietly.

Chuck looked up at him, rage in his eyes. "Why the hell are you even part of 'all this'?" he asked, a quiet fury in his voice.

Hernandez had to look away from Chuck. "I'm just following orders."

"That didn't work at Nüremberg, Corporal," Chuck said bitterly. "I can assure you it's not gonna work here."

* * *

**6:15 P.M., Pacific Daylight Time  
Portofino Yacht Club  
Redondo Beach, California**

The host showed Sarah and Casey to the table they had requested. The two men they had asked to meet them there were already waiting.

Logan Echolls rose from his seat. "Sarah Walker, John Casey, this is Keith Mars, Balboa County Sheriff," he said, introducing the shorter, balding man seated next to him.

Sheriff Mars rose and shook their hands. "Pleasure to meet you," he said. "I understand you wanted to meet with me and Supervisor Echolls regarding something?"

Sarah nodded, and sat down slowly. The three men followed suit.

"Mr. Mars," Sarah began.

"Please, call me Keith," he interrupted.

"Alright," she said, forcing a smile. "Keith, yesterday morning, while crossing the border from Vancouver to Seattle, your daughter and my fiancé were kidnapped by a domestic terrorist organization known as Fulcrum."

Keith Mars' eyes went wide. "My daughter… Veronica… she's been kidnapped?"

"I'm afraid so, sir," Casey said. "We have no idea why. We know where she's being held, though."

"So let's go get her!" Mars said, springing to his feet.

"It's not that easy, sir," Sarah replied sadly. "Otherwise, you can believe I would've been there the instant we knew."

Mars looked at his feet. "Of course," he said quietly.

Then he looked at Sarah a little more closely. "What's your fiancé's name?"

Sarah realized she was treading on thin ice here. "Uh, it's Charles Bartowski."

Keith Mars' darkened. "I am very tempted to say he can rot," he said. "After the crap he has pulled on my daughter –"

"Come on, Sheriff, you used to say the same thing about me," Logan interrupted. "Now look at us, working together."

"Okay, listen," Casey said, finally beginning to lose his patience. "I understand that there's a lot of emotions here, and a lot at stake. However, here's the long and short of it: they're being held at a Canadian military base, and if the United States government goes in there, it's an act of war."

He paused to let that sink in for a moment, and then continued. "So what we need is a group of heavily armed private citizens."

He turned to Keith Mars, with a smile on his face. "Sheriff Mars, how many men are on your force, and what other police contacts do you have?


	10. Desire

_**Chuck in a Moment**_

**Chapter 10: Desire**

**CAST (in order of appearance):**  
Chuck Bartowski – Zachary Levi  
Veronica Mars – Kristen Bell  
Airman Reynard – Michael Weston  
Sarah Walker – Yvonne Strahovski  
Keith Mars – Enrico Colantoni  
John Casey – Adam Baldwin  
Logan Echolls – Jason Dohring  
Dr. Martin Ducard – Christoph Waltz  
Prime Minister of Canada – Leonard Nimoy  
Langston Arthur Graham – Tony Todd

* * *

**8:00 P.M., Central Standard Time  
Sunday, July 12th, 2009  
Lac la Plonge Auxiliary Air Field, Saskatchewan, Canada**

Chuck and Veronica sat in the living room, as far away from each other as they could be and still sit on furniture. Season 2 of _Battlestar Galactica_ was in the DVD player, but neither of them was really paying much attention.

They were both still fairly shell shocked from their encounter with Dr. Ducard that afternoon. Chuck couldn't believe that any human being could be so horrible as he was. Veronica was just trying to wish it all away.

The semi-quiet of the room was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. Chuck frowned, paused the DVD, and went to the door. He opened it, and Airman Reynard stood there, an apologetic look on his face.

"I'm sorry for disturbing you," he said. "Doctor Ducard asked me to come by, and remind you that you have a job to do. He also asked me to remind you that there would be consequences if you didn't follow through on the job."

Chuck looked at the young man for a moment. He couldn't have been any more than eighteen or nineteen. "Airman Reynard," he said, "why are you here?"

Reynard looked confused. "This is where the Air Force sent me, sir."

"But, I mean, why do you stay here, given what goes on?"

Reynard shook his head. "I don't know what goes on here, sir. I don't ask, they don't tell."

"I see," Chuck mused. "In that case, do me a favor, go back to Doctor Ducard, and tell him the job's already been taken care of."

Reynard pursed his lips and shook his head again. "Sorry, sir, he told me to expect you to say that, and if you did say that, I was to tell you that he can tell whether or not it's been done."

Chuck sighed. "Of course the house is wired," he whispered. He turned around and faced the living room. "You're a real douchebag, Ducard!" he shouted, startling Veronica.

He turned back to Reynard. "Is there anything else, Airman?"

"Yes, sir," Reynard said softly. "He asked me to remind you that the task needs to be accomplished at least once a day."

"Once a – Jesus!" Chuck exclaimed. "Reynard, do you have any idea what it is that Ducard wants us to do?"

"No, sir," Reynard replied. "I don't want to know."

Chuck nodded. "That's probably for the best. Alright, you can go back to Doctor Douchebag, and tell him that it'll be done before the night is out."

"Thank you, sir."

Chuck slowly swung the door shut, then turned back toward the room. He looked like a defeated man, his head hanging, his shoulders slumped.

He didn't even look at Veronica, but rather just turned and headed into the bedroom. When Veronica followed him in there five minutes later, she found him laying face down on the bed, a pillow over his head.

"Chuck," she said softly, sitting down on the bed next to him.

There was a muffled explosion from beneath the pillow. "This is SHIT!" Veronica heard.

She gently placed her hand on his shoulder. "Chuck, you have a choice here."

He sat up, the pillow flying off his head. Chuck looked at Veronica incredulously and shook his head. "I don't have a CHOICE," he replied.

"Doctor Ducard gave you two options," Veronica said. "Two options means you have a choice."

Chuck put a hand to his forehead. "Okay, let's examine those options for a moment. Behind door number one – I can do something that I know will hurt my fiancée terribly, but which I know that she, more than anybody else I have ever known, will understand."

"Why are you so sure Sarah will understand?" Veronica asked quietly.

Chuck sighed. "She was an intelligence operative for years," he said. "She understands that sometimes… um… you use it as a tool. That it's necessary."

He shrugged. "I know she'll understand. I know she'll be hurt, but since door number two is doing nothing and allowing you, one of the people I care about most in this world, to die horrifically…"

Chuck looked up and looked Veronica in the eyes. "I don't have a choice."

Her eyes teared up, but she smiled at him. "Thank you."

Chuck smiled too, a small smile, but still a smile that in and of itself told Veronica how much he cared about her. "Come here," he said softly, reaching out an arm.

Veronica shifted over, allowing him to draw her to him and wrap her in a hug. She hugged him back, and then, after a moment, lifted her head. She gently kissed him on the cheek, then on the neck.

Chuck stiffened. "What are you doing?" he asked quietly.

"We have to do this, Chuck," she replied, just as quietly. "But here's the thing. If we're going to, we should at least not make ourselves hate it, don't you think?"

She felt Chuck sigh. He said nothing, did nothing, for at least a minute, and finally whispered, "Okay."

He tilted his face down toward hers. Veronica closed her eyes as she felt Chuck's lips gently meet her own.

* * *

**7:10 P.M., Pacific Daylight Time  
The home of Logan Echolls  
Neptune, California**

Sarah sat on a couch, trying not to think too much. Keith Mars and John Casey were hunched over a table, looking over the Balboa County Sheriff's Department force structure, and trying to figure out what other agencies they could draw manpower from.

She knew that she should really be participating in the strategy session, but she felt sick. It wasn't a nauseous type of sickness, either. It was the type of sickness you feel when you think that the person you love is cheating on you.

Sarah had no idea why she felt that way. Chuck was trapped on a remote air base in Saskatchewan. Who could he possibly be cheating on her with there?

_Veronica Mars_, her brain said accusingly.

Sarah shook her head to try to banish the thought from her mind, but it wouldn't go away. Sighing, she leaned forward, resting her head in her hands.

"Hey," she heard.

She looked up, and saw Logan Echolls standing there, a concerned look on his face. "Listen, I'm sure it's not any of my business, but are you doing okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," Sarah sighed. "I'm just… I'm really worried about Chuck."

"And I am really worried about Veronica," Logan replied, "but that's not just a look of concern that's written all over your face. It's also got a trace of jealousy, if I remember correctly from my 'Guide to the Faces of Angry Women'."

Sarah smiled briefly. "Yeah," she said. "I just, I can't help but wonder what he's doing up there with her."

Logan shook his head and sat down on the couch next to her. "What do you think he's doing up there with her?"

"I don't know," Sarah admitted. "I just have a bad feeling about it."

"Are you afraid he's gonna cheat on you with her?" Logan asked Sarah. "Because, you know, I got to know Chuck pretty well in the months before you returned from the grave, and I don't see him as doing that type of thing, like, ever."

He stopped and sighed. "I can't see Veronica doing something like that, either. The only way she would ever, EVER do that is if his life depended on it. And that seems like a fairly unrealistic scenario, don't you think?"

Sarah nodded. "Yeah," she replied. "That's about the only circumstances I can see Chuck doing that under, too. I mean, if her life depended on it, I'm sure he would. I'd understand. I'd expect him to."

Logan smiled. "Now, see, where were all the girls like you when I was in high school?"

Sarah rolled her eyes. "In the Drug Enforcement Administration. I'm not saying that's an invitation for him to go screw around with Veronica, I'm just saying that if her life somehow depended on it, I'd expect him to do the right thing."

Logan gave her a curious look. "Those girls are in the DEA? What's that supposed to mean?"

* * *

**8:30 P.M., CST  
Lac la Plonge**

Chuck lay on his back, staring at the ceiling – just as he had been for the last five minutes.

The room was dark, and he couldn't see anything. There was a reason for that. He had intentionally turned the lights off so that he wouldn't see Veronica, couldn't accidentally see himself in a mirror – because he didn't think he could face her or himself right at the moment.

But she was still there next to him. Her head rested on his shoulder, and he could feel her breathing. He started unconsciously tracing circles on her bare back with his finger.

"I'm sorry," Veronica whispered.

"Sorry for what?" he asked.

"For making you do this," she replied, and he could hear that her voice was about to break. "For making you be unfaithful to Sarah."

"Don't," Chuck whispered. "You will never have to apologize for making me do something that saves your life. Not now, not ever."

He was quiet for a moment, and then said, "I'm sorry, though."

"For what?" Veronica asked, lifting her head a little.

"For being so hesitant to do the right thing," Chuck answered.

"No, no," Veronica replied. "I don't want you to ever apologize for being such a good person. Okay?"

"Okay."

* * *

Martin Ducard leaned back in his office chair and rolled his eyes.

"God, what a couple of whiners," he remarked. "Never in my life have I heard two people complain so much about sex."

"_That's what happens when you put good people in a bad situation_," a voice said from the speakerphone.

"Sir, there's no such thing as a good person or a bad person," Ducard replied. "They're just people."

"_You may have been at that place too long, Ducard. Anyway, I received the protest from the President._"

"And?"

"_And I'm going to tell him to stick it where the sun doesn't shine, along with a strongly worded statement about how dare he send four intelligence agents into my country._"

"Very good, Mr. Prime Minister."

* * *

**8:00 P.M., PDT  
Neptune, California**

Sarah's phone began ringing. She removed it from her purse, and saw the CIA logo pop up on the screen. That meant it was Director Graham's direct line.

She stepped outside the house, and hit a series of buttons. A moment later, the call connected.

"Walker, secure," she said.

"This is Graham, secure," he replied. "I see you're in Neptune, Agent Walker. You're not planning anarchy and mayhem, are you?"

"No, sir," she replied. "Just informing Sheriff Mars of his daughter's disappearance."

Graham was quiet for a moment. "I really wish you hadn't done that, Agent Walker."

Sarah shook her head and rolled her eyes. "So I'm supposed to let the man believe that his daughter fell off the face of the planet?"

"Walker, I wish you hadn't done that because Keith Mars has been known to create anarchy and mayhem when it suits his purposes."

"Well, sir, maybe if we weren't being a bunch of diplomatic candy-asses and actually doing something about the situation, he wouldn't have to."

Graham said nothing for so long that Sarah thought she'd lost him. Finally, though, he spoke again. "I know it's difficult for you, with Bartowski being up there, but you have to be objective about this."

"I CAN'T be objective about this, sir!" Sarah exploded. "This is not a mission. This is not Bryce Larkin with a Venezuelan agent in Cabo San Lucas. This is Chuck Bartowski, my Chuck, my fiancé, stuck in the goddamn middle of nowhere under the thumb of Fulcrum, who plans to do God-knows-what to him!"

Graham sighed. "I can recall you if need be, Agent Walker."

"Then you will have my resignation, sir, and it will be PERMANENT this time."

"Well, I don't want that," Graham replied. "Alright. Fine, you don't have to be objective about it. I can understand your reasons why, even if I don't agree with them. But you need to know that the Prime Minister of Canada basically told the President that he could take his diplomatic protest and shove it. He also had some things to say about four intelligence agents being in his country, even though the President tried to explain that it was really an analyst, a federal cop, and two agents – and that you were all on vacation."

"Asshole," Sarah muttered. "So what next?"

"Well, ordinarily, we'd recall our embassy staff, but that's generally a prelude to war, and we are not going to war with Canada over a computer nerd with a super-brain and an FBI agent."

Sarah sighed. "I understand, sir."

"Good," Graham said. "We'll do everything we can, Walker, but please – behave yourself?"

"Of course, sir," Sarah replied. "I'll be on my best behavior."


	11. With or Without You

_**Chuck in a Moment**_

**Chapter 11: With or Without You**

**CAST (in order of appearance):**  
Sarah Walker – Yvonne Strahovski  
John Casey – Adam Baldwin  
Logan Echolls – Jason Dohring  
Keith Mars – Enrico Colantoni  
Anna Wu – Julia Ling  
Bryce Larkin – Matthew Bomer  
Langston Arthur Graham – Tony Todd  
Mal Reynolds – Nathan Fillion  
Kaylee Frye – Jewel Staite  
William Adama – Edward James Olmos  
The Doctor – David Tennant  
Veronica Mars – Kristen Bell

* * *

**7:00 A.M., Pacific Daylight Time  
Monday, July 13th, 2009  
Neptune, California**

_Boing_.

Sarah Walker was slowly dragged from sleep. She kept her eyes squeezed tight shut. "Not yet," she grumbled.

She had been dreaming about Chuck. He had been there with her – wherever they had been in the dream. But she knew when she opened her eyes, he would be gone.

_Boing._

Sarah cracked an eye open. Sunlight was pouring into the room… where was she?

_Boing._

She looked down. She was covered by a blanket, lying on a couch. She was still wearing the same clothes she had been wearing the day before.

_Boing._

That's right. She was at Logan Echolls' house. She had fallen asleep the night before, while Logan, Casey, and Keith Mars talked in hushed tones about the retrieval operation. She hadn't participated in the planning herself, her justification being that she had sworn to Director Graham that she'd be on her best behavior.

_Boing._

What the hell was that noise?

Casting off the blanket, Sarah stood up and padded barefoot toward the noise. It seemed to be coming from the general direction of the kitchen.

As she passed into the kitchen the noise got louder. Stepping through the open back door, she saw a halfcourt, a regulation height basketball goal at the end. Casey, Logan, and Sheriff Mars appeared to be playing 21 or something similar.

Sarah stood on the edge of the halfcourt, a small smile appearing on her face. Casey pulled down a rebound, saw her standing there, and yelled, "Hey Walker! Think fast!"

The ball came flying toward her at a high rate of speed. However, Sarah, in her prior life, had been a pretty good basketball player, and snatched the ball out of midair with a minimum of effort. She cocked an eyebrow, pushed off lightly, and with a flick of her wrist, released a beautiful rainbow-arc three-point range shot.

A second later, the leather sphere fell through the hoop, making a slight _swish _noise as it passed through the nylon cords of the net. "Wow," Casey said. "I never knew you had it in you, Walker."

"There's a lot you don't know about me, Casey," Sarah replied with a half smile on her face. "How long have you boys been up?"

"We never went to sleep, Agent Walker," Keith Mars replied. "We've been up all night."

"And we could have used your help," Casey admonished her.

"Hey, Casey, your agency is lacking a director to report to right now," Sarah replied. "Director Graham would tear a strip off of me if he thought I was helping to plan an invasion of Canada."

Logan held up a hand. "Whoa, there. It's not an invasion, per se."

Sarah cocked an eyebrow. "It's a bunch of armed people going into a Canadian military base with hostile intent. How is that not an invasion?"

"Legally," Logan replied, wrinkling his nose. "They're all civilians."

"Gotcha," Sarah said sarcastically. "So, what's your grand plan?"

"Glad you asked," Casey replied. "Come on inside."

Sarah followed the men inside, back to the living room. Casey turned on the sixty-inch plasma TV that dominated one wall of Logan's living room.

A PowerPoint presentation appeared on the TV screen. "Okay," Casey began. "So, here's the best picture we could find of Lac la Plonde Auxiliary Air Field." He hit the space bar on his laptop.

A satellite image appeared on the screen. "So, from what we can tell," Casey continued, "this is obviously a runway." He pointed to the long grey strip that dominated the north end of the picture. "It's about two miles long. Next to that, we have what appear to be residential units. There are twenty-five of those. Behind the residential units are facilities for command, munitions, barracks, logistics, medical, and so on.

"This is a tiny base," he said. "We figure that all told, there are probably no more than 75 personnel on the base. Since it's an Air Force base, their training probably isn't all that great – and I should know, since I'm US Air Force Reserve."

He hit the spacebar again. "As you can see here, there are thirty-two deputies employed by the Balboa County Sheriff's Department. Of those thirty-two, ten have SWAT training, and fourteen are in either the National Guard or the Reserves. Sheriff Mars has also spoken with a friend of his, Commander Rick Pope of the Los Angeles Police Department's Anti-Gang Task Force, and he has indicated his willingness to commit his twenty man special operations unit."

Sarah shook her head. "Wait a second," she said in disbelief. "You want to invade a Canadian Air Force Base with a bunch of cops?"

"Agent Walker," Keith Mars interjected, "my deputies are among the best trained in the country. They have to be – Balboa County is one volatile place. The LAPD Anti-Gang Task Force – everybody on it has SWAT training. My cars are armored and have bulletproof glass, my men are trained in using assault weapons. They can take a bunch of flyboys no problem."

"Your cars?" Sarah asked. "Are you telling me that you plan to drive a bunch of old Ford Crown Victorias all the way to northern Saskatchewan?"

"Actually, no," Logan said. Casey hit the spacebar again, and a shot of three white-painted C-141B Starlifter aircraft appeared on the screen. "I own a company called Globemaster Airlines. It's a cargo and charter airline that owns an old McDonnell Douglas DC-10 and three retired Lockheed C-141 Starlifters – the ones on the screen. My friend Wallace Fennel is the CEO."

"And that's how we get the police and their equipment to Canada," Casey resumed. "We load them onboard one of the Starlifters, fly everything to the air base. We land on the runway, open up the cargo door in the back, drive the cars straight out, and invade."

Sarah was quiet for a moment, staring at the screen. "That's an audacious plan," she finally said. "Pretty well thought out, too. But how do we avoid, oh, say, the Canadian Air Force?"

Casey smiled and tapped a finger against his temple. Pulling out his phone, he dialed a number and placed it on speakerphone. Sarah heard it ring, and then a moment later, there was a yawn, and an answer.

"Good morning, you've reached Anna Wu, Nerd Herder on call. How may I assist you?"

"Anna, John Casey. Sorry to call you so early."

"John? What's going on?"

"Listen. You were born in the United States, right?"

"Yeah…"

"How loyal are you to your home country?"

"Uh, I know the Pledge of Allegiance…"

"Good enough. Listen, if you were to get paid, oh, say, a hundred thousand dollars, how would you feel about doing a little hacking and planting some false but harmless information?"

Anna was silent for a moment. "What would I be hacking?"

"The databases of the Federal Aviation Administration and its Canadian counterpart. You'd be filing some false flight plans."

"Well, that'd be easy enough," Anna mused. "Federal databases have the WORST security. But why would I be filing false flight plans?"

"Um…" Casey thought for a moment, then apparently decided to go with the truth, or at least the partial truth. "Chuck's been kidnapped by some Canadians, and the government's not doing much to get him back, so we're going to go after him."

"Chuck's been kidnapped?" Anna gasped. "Oh my God… does Morgan know?"

"No, and it would be best if it remained that way," Casey replied. "The question is, will you help us?"

"For Chuck?" Anna replied. "Of course I will!"

"Okay," Casey said. "What kind of encryption to you have on your e-mail?"

"15,360 bit RSA key."

Casey's eyes widened. "Jesus," he muttered. "Paranoid much?"

"You can never be too careful, Johnny."

He rolled his eyes. He hated being called Johnny. "Alright," he said. "I'll e-mail you what we need, and I'll get you the details on the payment… um, shit, I'm scheduled this afternoon, aren't I?"

"Yes, you are. I'll see you then?"

"Yeah. I'll have details for you."

Casey hung up, and turned to Sarah. "So?"

"You've got this pretty well planned, I'll admit," she said. "But what happens if Canada decides to declare war on the US in retaliation?"

Casey shrugged. "That's the diplomats' problem, not mine."

* * *

**8:30 A.M., Central Standard Time  
Lac la Plonde Auxiliary Air Field, Saskatchewan, Canada**

Chuck was having a weird, weird dream. Everything in the dream looked like it had been rotoscoped – cartoonized, as it were, just like in _A Scanner Darkly_.

He and Veronica were standing in the middle of a stage in a theatre. The theatre appeared to be empty, but then a spotlight snapped on. It didn't shine on Chuck, though – it was something behind him.

He turned around, and there were Sarah, Casey, and Bryce – Sarah with her hands over her eyes, Casey with his hands over his mouth, Bryce with his hands over his ears. The voice of Director Graham rang through the theatre – "PRESENTING THE PINNACLE OF THE AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE SERVICES – SEE NO EVIL, SPEAK NO EVIL, HEAR NO EVIL!"

Chuck approached the three agents. "Please, guys, help us," he begged them. "They have us trapped up here – they're using us in a horrible way!"

Casey shook his head. He couldn't speak. Bryce gave him a confused look – he couldn't hear.

But Sarah spoke. "I'm sorry, Chuck," she said quietly. "I can't see you to help you."

Frustrated, Chuck headed toward stage left – to find his way blocked by Mal Reynolds and Kaylee Frye. "You guys! You can help us!"

Mal shook his head – except it wasn't really Mal, it was Nathan Fillion. "We can't," he said.

And it wasn't Kaylee, either. It was Jewel Staite. "We're Canadians," she said. "Why would we go against our own people?"

"Because they're doing terrible things!" Chuck exclaimed.

But as he watched, Nathan Fillion and Jewel Staite faded from view. He turned back to Veronica – she was now lying on the stage, her eyes closed, her arms folded across her chest. He looked to stage right –

Admiral Adama stood there. "Admiral Adama!" Chuck shouted. "Can you help us?!"

He just stared back at Chuck. "How do I know you're not a Cylon?"

"What?!" shouted Chuck. "I'm not a Cylon!"

"He can't hear you anymore, Chuck," came a slightly Scottish sounding voice, as Adama faded from view. Chuck turned to his right – and the Doctor exited his TARDIS, a Dalek in tow. "You can't escape, Chuck. This is your destiny."

"No!" Chuck shouted. "This CAN'T be my destiny! I refuse to let it be my destiny!"

"Very well," the Doctor said quietly. "Major Casey?"

Chuck whirled around, as Casey stepped forward. He removed his hands from his mouth – except he had no mouth. It was just blank flesh.

He reached down and lifted Veronica under her arms, pulling her up to a standing position. Her eyes remained closed.

"This is the consequence for your refusal to allow your destiny to run its course, Chuck," the Doctor said, a cruel smile appearing on his face.

The Dalek turned its laser arm toward Veronica. "EX-TER-MI-NATE!"

"NO!" Chuck shouted, leaping in front of Veronica –

And his eyes popped open. He looked around wildly –

But Veronica was right there, her head resting on his shoulder. It was pretty clear that Chuck hadn't actually said anything out loud, because she was still fast asleep.

He closed his eyes and replayed the events of the night before in his head. After their… required activities – he refused to think of it as love-making – he had gone directly to the shower, and when he got out, dressed in the pajamas he had discovered in the closet. When he came back out of the bathroom, he got into the bed. He fell asleep before Veronica finished in the shower.

At around two in the morning, quiet noises had awakened Chuck. It turned out to be Veronica, whimpering and softly saying, "Please, no," in her sleep. Chuck had no idea what it was about, but had this horrible sinking feeling that it had something to do with him.

However, when he had reached over and touched her shoulder, her eyes fluttered open, she smiled up at him, and then rolled over toward him. Despite the fact that he would have preferred to sleep with as much of the bed between them as possible, he put his arms around her and held her as she fell back to sleep. He would rather she sleep peacefully – he'd deal with his guilty conscience another time.

But now, as he came to wakefulness again, he was still holding her in his arms. He felt a mixture of guilt and happiness – happiness because he had really not spent that much time with Veronica since he broke up with her at the beginning of May, and guilt because of how much this was going to hurt Sarah.

Chuck sighed. God, how he wished he could wake up from this nightmare.


	12. Bullet the Blue Sky

_**Chuck in a Moment**_

**Chapter 12: Bullet the Blue Sky**

**CAST (in order of appearance):**  
Keith Mars – Enrico Collantoni  
Agent Marion Banks – Don Cheadle  
Sarah Walker – Yvonne Strahovski  
John Casey – Adam Baldwin  
Bryce Larkin – Matthew Bomer  
Carina Hansen – Mini Anden  
Chuck Bartowski – Zachary Levi  
Veronica Mars – Kristen Bell

* * *

The prep work for the mission took forever.

Keith Mars wanted to vet each and every one of his deputies first. He wanted to make sure that they were willing to take part in a mission that could land them in jail for the rest of their lives.

It turned out that all of his deputies held a certain amount of affection for Keith's daughter. Even the ones who had been loyal to Don Lamb seemed to care for Veronica.

And so, Keith Mars had himself thirty-two deputies who were ready to invade Canada. Rick Pope's twenty-man anti-gang task force brought the total number of invading police officers up to fifty-two.

But then, on July 18th, during a strategy briefing at the Balboa County Sheriff's Office, a group of eight men in suits walked into the briefing room. "FBI," said one of them, holding up a badge.

"Can we help you?" Sheriff Mars asked.

"Looks like you boys are planning to go somewhere," the agent who spoke first said.

"Um, sir, I'm not sure what you're talking about," Keith replied.

"Special Agent Marion Banks," the agent stated. "We're the FBI's southern California hostage rescue team. We know from Rick Pope that you're planning to go retrieve Chuck Bartowski and Veronica Mars from some air base in Canada."

Keith looked at Sarah. He didn't look like he knew what to say. Sarah stood up.

"Agent Banks, Agent Sarah Walker, Central Intelligence Agency," she said. "Everything you've said is correct, but we can't really discuss details."

"Agent Walker, let me make something clear," Agent Banks replied. "Agent Mars is one of ours. If somebody's going to go get her, we're damn well going with you."

Keith raised his eyebrows. "An eight man specially trained FBI team?" he asked. "Uh, we could certainly use that help."

Banks nodded, and strode forward to the front of the room. "Okay, what's your mode of transport?"

"Uh, I got that," Logan said, standing. "We've got a retired MC-141B Starlifter."

Banks smiled. "Perfect. How much equipment are you putting in?"

"Four Suburbans and sixteen Ford Crown Victorias," Keith said.

Agent Banks' smile got a little bigger and he nodded. "More than enough room for a Huey," he said.

"I beg your pardon?"

Banks spread his hands and began to explain. "Listen," he replied, "we load in your vehicles, then we load in the helicopter, pre-fueled. The moment we land, we roll it out, deploy the rotors, and use it for aerial support during the assault. What do you think?"

"I think it's an audacious plan," John Casey interjected, speaking for the first time. "But I think we aren't ready to deploy yet."

"When will you be ready?"

"I don't know," Casey said, shaking his head. "We'll let you know."

* * *

"Why are we driving cross-country again?"

"I thought we'd been over this, like ten or twelve times."

"So there are two agents in captivity in a foreign country. Like this is the first time that's happened."

"I'm sorry, I seem to recall that two agents once pulled your ass out of an Al Qaeda training camp."

"Yeah, well, I was also a deep cover operative. We're talking about an FBI agent, and… whatever it is that Chuck does."

"He's an analyst. You know that."

"Sure, whatever. An analyst doesn't have a CIA deep-cover and an NSA assassin assigned to keep watch over him from day one."

"Is there something you have against Chuck?"

"Not in particular."

"Come on, you're not telling me the truth here. Something happened, and you've got something against him for some reason."

"Fine. The night of Sarah's memorial service, he came to my hotel room. He was a mess. I basically held him for a couple hours and let him cry his heart out."

"Wow. That's mighty charitable of you. You, of all people, having compassion for somebody?"

"Look, Sarah was my friend. One of the few I actually say that about. And honestly, the poor guy was heartbroken."

"You're leaving something out here. That's not all that happened."

"Yeah… you're right."

"What?"

"We slept together."

Bryce Larkin's eyes just about popped out of his head. "YOU WHAT?!"

Carina Hansen looked back at him. "We slept together. Had sex, got it on… fucked… am I getting the point across here?"

"I can't believe you!" Bryce exploded. "You slept with Chuck the night of Sarah's memorial service!"

"You know what?!" Carina shot back. "Fine. I'll call it what it was. A pity screw. I felt sorry for him. I thought I'd try to make him feel a little better."

"Did it?"

Carina shrugged. "Well, no."

* * *

**8:04 A.M., Central Standard Time  
Monday, July 20th, 2009  
Lac la Plonge Auxiliary Air Field, Saskatchewan, Canada**

Chuck Bartowski had a serious problem.

He was starting to get used to waking up in the morning with Veronica Mars snuggled in the crook of his arm, her head on his shoulder, her left arm thrown across his chest. It made him smile a little more each day to see the mess of blonde hair lying across his chest.

The problem with that was that about half an hour after he woke up every day, he had a horrible attack of guilt. Guilt over the fact that he was cheating on Sarah, whether or not it was to save somebody's life. Guilt over the fact that he felt like he was leading Veronica on in the world's most horrible way.

Worse than all of that was that Chuck KNEW that Veronica still had feelings for him, and he could tell, every time she looked at him, that she was growing hope that maybe those feelings he had needed to "resolve" were growing into something again.

And perhaps worst of all – she wasn't entirely wrong. Those feelings he had hoped that he could make go away, that he had hoped he could resolve – they had come back in full force. Were they stronger than the way he felt about Sarah? Not even close. But the feelings were incredibly dangerous.

To distract him from what he felt like was ever-increasing insanity, Chuck had begun writing code for a new video game. He had already decided, this was going to be the mother of all games. He had tried to describe it to Veronica, calling it, "Part _Call of Duty_, part _Grand Theft Auto_, part _Need for Speed_, part _Rainbow Six_." She had been bored.

Chuck had already coded and compiled the ten characters that one could choose from in order to complete missions. Some characters were going to be higher levels, and you had to complete certain missions in order to unlock them.

The basic characters – the ones he had decided to let people start with – were a short, slightly schlubby Latino guy with a beard and mustache, or a short, Italian girl with dark hair and a fiery temper. After completing level one, you could stick with one of those, or move on to the taller girl with Polish features and dark hair, or the tall, blonde surfer looking guy. After level two, you could pick the short, blonde girl with the dark blue eyes, or the tall guy with the curly brown hair. After level three, you could pick either the guy with the ice blue eyes, long brown hair, and slight five o'clock shadow, or you could pick the girl with the bright red hair and the sparkling emerald eyes. And when you unlocked the final level, you could pick either the tall, musclebound guy with dark hair and a LOT of guns, or you could pick the tall, blonde woman who looked like she could kick your ass at the drop of a hat.

Chuck was rather pleased with how much like the people who had inspired them he had made the characters. He was rather certain that Morgan would be shocked beyond recognition that he was even in a game.

The missions ranged from solving simple murder mysteries to invading a Las Vegas casino to overthrowing a foreign government. Chuck was rather certain that this game was going to be a hit – if he was ever able to get out of this place.

All those thoughts ran through his head in about two point five seconds – just long enough for Veronica to wake up. She looked up at Chuck, and a brilliant if sleepy smile spread across her face.

"Good morning, Chuck."

* * *

**11:00 P.M., Pacific Daylight Time  
Thursday, July 23rd, 2009  
The Avalon Hotel  
Avalon, Santa Catalina Island, California**

With a lack of a permanent residence, and not wanting to go back to Chuck's apartment while he was gone, Sarah had returned to what had become her place of refuge – her suite at the Avalon Hotel. None of her things had been touched – in fact, the suite was still exactly as she had left it. The front desk clerk had informed her that as long as her American Express card was valid, she was most welcome at the Avalon Hotel.

A relatively long swim out in the Pacific hadn't done anything to clear her head or soothe her nerves. She was hoping that repeating it the next morning would help somewhat.

Right at the moment, though, she needed to rest. Sarah walked around the suite, turning off every light, closing every blind, making sure the door was deadbolted and locked.

She stripped down in the pitch black suite, and collapsed naked onto her bed. She just lay there for a moment, not doing anything, letting the cool air wash over her skin.

As her eyelids grew heavy, Sarah scooted further up onto the bed, resting her head on the pillow. She closed her eyes, but her brain wouldn't turn itself off.

She started to think – she had decided that this chain of events never would have unfolded had she not decided to pull that stupid, asinine stunt and jumped off the Vincent Thomas Bridge. John Casey had tried to convince her otherwise, but Sarah knew.

Sometimes she dreamed about how it would have been different, sometimes, she just felt like she could see. Like right now.

She could see Chuck taking her out on Valentine's Day, two weeks after. She could see them going out to the Santa Monica Pier, just hanging out and having fun. She saw him being taken away, to a secure facility, and then saw herself and John Casey rushing in to save the day.

Some of the images made Sarah smile. She saw him on what must have been St. Patrick's Day, dressed in a leprechaun outfit, leaping over the Nerd Herd counter at the Buy More, and kissing her like she was the last woman on Earth. She saw herself cuddled up next to him in the bed in her old hotel room in downtown Los Angeles, having a _Firefly_ marathon.

It seemed like life could have been so happy. The thought of going with him to Comic-Con. The thought of him proposing to her, on the beach in Santa Monica, one year after they had met. She saw a wedding, at Griffith Observatory – she was dressed in a simple dress with just a hint of pink, and Chuck, dressed in a light blue shirt and khaki pants – but he looked incredible, like he always did.

She saw herself pregnant. With twins, even. She saw herself moving into a house with Chuck. She saw the twins being born – she even knew their names. John Marcus, and Lisa Erin.

Sarah sighed. She didn't know where these visions came from. She didn't know why they haunted her. She was engaged to Chuck. It was all still a possibility.

That's why she had to get him back.

* * *

**8:00 A.M., Eastern Daylight Time  
Wednesday, July 29th, 2009  
Highland Park, Detroit, Michigan**

Bryce pulled off the road. They were stopped on a back street, far from where anybody would actually see them.

Making sure they were clear, he opened the trunk and lifted the mat covering the spare tire. Reaching halfway down the underside of the mat, he found the seam, and gently pulled it open.

Inside were a set of Nova Scotia license plates. According to John Casey, they'd been put into the database for Nova Scotia's equivalent of the DMV to match the BMW 525 that Bryce was driving.

Grabbing the electric screwdriver from its spot in the tire well, Bryce worked quickly. He replaced the Kansas plates with the Nova Scotia plates, and then put the Kansas plates into the compartment in the mat, resealing the underside.

He tossed the screwdriver back into the tire well, and set the mat back down. After closing the trunk, he crossed back to the driver's door and climbed inside.

Carina was sitting in the shotgun seat, looking at the atlas. "So, as far as I can tell, we could've pretty much just gone up into Omaha and shot straight up I-29 to Canada," she remarked as they pulled away from the curb. "Any reason why we had to drive all the way to De-goddamn-troit and now we have to drive all the way around the Great Lakes and then back to Saskatchewan?"

"We have to be completely certain that nobody – and I mean NOBODY – knows who we are or where we are," Bryce replied. "You know, there's a lot of people in Fulcrum who would love to see me dead."

"Come on, you're hardly even recognizable as Bryce Larkin anymore," Carina replied. "You honestly think they would be able to tell it's you?"

"I take no chances," Bryce replied. He turned onto the onramp for Michigan Highway 10, headed toward the bridge that would take them across the river into Windsor.

He looked over at Carina and grinned. "You ready to go kick some Canadian ass?"

She smiled back and nodded. "Oh yeah."


	13. Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own

_**Chuck in a Moment**_

**Chapter 13: Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own**

**CAST (in order of appearance):**  
Chuck Bartowski – Zachary Levi  
Veronica Mars – Kristen Bell  
Corporal Hernandez – Jon Huertas  
Airman Reynard – Michael Weston  
Keith Mars – Enrico Colantoni  
John Casey – Adam Baldwin  
Logan Echolls – Jason Dohring  
Sarah Walker – Yvonne Strahovski  
Bryce Larkin – Matthew Bomer

_**Author's warning:**__ this chapter is extremely dark, and potentially disturbing. It is not for the faint of heart._

* * *

**10:04 A.M., Central Standard Time  
Friday, August 14th, 2009  
Lac la Plonde Auxiliary Air Field, Saskatchewan, Canada**

Chuck and Veronica were sitting at the breakfast table. She had taken to making breakfast the last few days. Chuck seemed miserable, and she was trying to snap him out of it.

It broke her heart to see him the way he was. The Chuck Bartowski she knew and loved was a fun, vibrant person, and it was awful to see him in the funk he had slipped into.

But what broke her heart even more than that was the fact that she knew why he was so miserable. He was desperately, madly in love with Sarah, but his old feelings for Veronica were rearing their head, and he was trying to fight them off.

And that was the thing – she wasn't sure what was breaking her heart, the fact that the feelings were making him miserable, or the fact that he WAS trying to resist them.

As selfish as she knew it was, she had had these hopes, deep down, that maybe something good would come of this whole thing – maybe it would bring him back to her. The three months that she and Chuck Bartowski had been together – never had she felt more loved, more cared for than she had during that short period of time.

He was so sweet about everything, too. During what he still insisted on calling their "mandatory daily activities", he was always gentle, always patient. He never tried to rush it, and get it over with – but Veronica always sensed that part of him wasn't there. She sensed that part of him was somewhere in southern California.

The knock on the door startled them both. They had both had routine weekly physicals the day before, and neither had expected to be taken anywhere for anything. They were both still in good health, both doing what they had to do.

Chuck got up, a puzzled look on his face. He crossed to the door and pulled it open. Corporal Hernandez and Airman Reynard stood there. "Doctor Ducard has asked to see Ms. Mars," Hernandez said.

"Okay," Chuck said with a shrug. He turned to Veronica. "Hey, the doctor needs to see us."

"Uh, actually," Hernandez interrupted him, "he just wanted to see Ms. Mars."

"Oh," Chuck replied. He didn't like that. He didn't like it one bit. But there wasn't much he could do. "Uh, okay then."

Veronica got up from the table. "I'll be just a moment," she told them, as she pulled her shoes on. And indeed, a moment later, she walked out the door, and headed to the Jeep Cherokee.

Hernandez and Reynard started to turn to follow her, but Chuck grabbed Hernandez's shoulder. "Hey," he said quietly. Hernandez turned back to face him. "Keep an eye on her, okay?"

Hernandez nodded. "I will, Mr. Bartowski."

* * *

**9:45 A.M., Pacific Daylight Time**  
**Balboa County Sheriff's Department  
Neptune, California**

Keith Mars didn't like the way things were going at all. His deputies were getting edgy, anxious to leave.

But John Casey had said they weren't leaving till he gave the word. He said that if they left too soon, it would be a disaster.

Keith had replied that Casey had no idea what it was like to have somebody you loved in as much danger as Veronica had to be in. Casey had looked back at him, shaken his head, and said, "You have no idea, Sheriff Mars."

Keith had to find something with which to occupy himself, so he had started calling in markers from the San Diego County Sheriff, the Orange County Sheriff, and the Los Angeles County Sheriff. He arranged for them to conduct patrols of Balboa County while the sheriff's department was away, although it took quite a bit of convincing to talk them into being prepared to do it on a moment's notice.

Worse still, though, was what the waiting was doing to Logan Echolls. Keith had, on more than one occasion, left the county building fairly late, and seen Logan still there, only to return the next morning to find him there, wearing the same clothes he had the day before. On those days, he always had a deputy walk Logan out to a squad car, drive him home, and force him to get at least four hours worth of sleep.

This morning had been one more of those cases. Keith shook his head and took a drink of his coffee. Poor Logan. He'd never truly gotten over Veronica. He'd done his best to just be her friend, but his feelings for her ran too deep.

Keith rolled his eyes. Never had he thought he'd feel sorry for Logan Echolls. But he had something in common with Logan – he loved Veronica, and he was pretty anxious to go after her.

* * *

**The Avalon Hotel  
Avalon, Santa Catalina Island, California**

A cold fury burned inside of Sarah Walker as she attacked the punching bag. She went after it with a forcefulness that she hadn't let loose in years.

The familiar strains of Rage Against the Machine's "Killing In the Name Of" filled the suite, fueling the anger. She beat at the punching bag as if it were her worst enemy –

Or as if it were a certain flame haired DEA agent slut. Bryce had called her the night they crossed into Canada, and though she was sure it was unintentional, he had let slip something Carina had told him.

He told her that Carina had slept with Chuck the night of Sarah's own memorial service. That just pissed her off beyond measure.

She didn't blame Chuck. Chuck had thought she was dead, after all. He was seeking comfort, and Carina was offering it. She had to wonder about his choice in judgment, but she wasn't going to fault him for it.

No, only one person was going to be faulted. That was DEA Agent Carina Hansen. Sarah was going to finish the mission, and then she was going to put Carina's ass through a wall.

* * *

**11:33 A.M., CST  
Lac la Plonde**

Chuck was midway through the fifth episode of _Moonlight_ when there was a pounding on the front door. "What the hell?" he muttered as he stood up and crossed to the door. The pounding came again, more insistent this time. "I'm coming, I'm coming!" he shouted.

He pulled open the door and was greeted with a shocking sight. Corporal Hernandez and Airman Reynard were both back – but they both looked like they'd seen the end of the world.

A strange high pitched noise sounded faintly in Chuck's ears. It sounded almost like an animal howling, but he could neither place it nor figure out where it was coming from. "Guys, what's going on?" he asked.

Neither of them spoke for a moment. "HERNANDEZ. Say something."

The corporal's chin shook as he forced his mouth open. "I… I just… I heard it," he stammered. "I didn't s-see anything… but R-Reynard did-d."

Reynard looked like he was about to go into shock. "Reynard?" Chuck asked, growing more and more alarmed with each passing second. "What did you see?"

"Uh… uh, I-I saw Agent Mars… she, she, uh, she went into Ducard's office. She went into his office, and he left the d-door partially op… open. He t-told her that he had g-gone over her phys, her physical from the day before, and…"

Reynard paused and inhaled a great heaving breath. "And he told her that she was pregnant. Th-then he did a, a, a, you know, the sound thingy…"

"An ultrasound," Chuck breathed. Had he heard correctly?!

"He d-did an ultrasound… and then, then he strapped her down… and he took it."

Chuck felt like an anvil had been dropped on his head. "What?"

"Oh, God, it was awful," Reynard sobbed. "He took, he took this tube, and he stuck it inside her, and then… then he sucked it out! He took it, and, and he st-stuck it in a j-j-jar!"

Reynard collapsed to his hands and knees, and vomited on the porch. Hernandez looked like death warmed over.

Chuck felt like he had just died. He couldn't move. He couldn't speak. And then he heard it again – that high pitched wailing.

"What's that noise?" he whispered, even though he was already pretty sure he knew exactly what it was.

"That's Agent Mars," Hernandez replied softly. "Oh my God, what have we done?"

Hernandez continued standing on the porch, staring at the front door with vacant eyes. Chuck started to walk toward the Jeep, then ran. He wrenched open the back door – and was assaulted by the primal scream that ripped forth from Veronica's throat.

"Veronica!" he said, horrified. "Oh God, what did he do to you?"

He reached in, unbuckled her seatbelt, and gathered her into his arms. She felt almost as light as a feather.

Almost as soon as he touched her, she stopped screaming. She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed so tightly he thought she was going to cut off his breathing.

Chuck ran back toward the cabin, past Hernandez and Reynard, and took Veronica into the bedroom. He laid her down on the bed, and then turned back toward the living room.

"NO!" Veronica howled. Chuck turned back around, terrified by the sound of her voice.

"Please… don't go…" she begged in a broken voice.

"I'll be right back," he whispered, not able to muster his own voice. "I swear."

Chuck went back to the front door, stepped out on the porch, and shut the door behind him. Reynard was finally getting back to his feet.

Chuck took a deep breath and looked at the two of them. "Where are your families?"

"My parents moved to Florida five years ago," Reynard replied, his voice empty.

"Cuba," Hernandez replied simply.

"Then get out," Chuck told them. "You have to get as far from this place as you can. It's going to fall eventually, and you can't be here when that happens. Go back to your barracks, get your things, take that Jeep, and get as far away as you can."

"Where would we go?" Hernandez asked, his voice distant.

"Go to Los Angeles," Chuck said, trying to make his thoughts override the raging emotions in his brain. "Go to the town of Neptune, and see a man named Logan Echolls. Tell him you know me. He'll help you."

Reynard turned his gaze on Chuck. "Why are you trying to help us?"

What was Chuck supposed to say? "I don't know," he said. "I just think you're good people. Please, prove me right."

Reynard and Hernandez both turned without a word, without a backward glance, and walked back to the Jeep. They got in and drove away, leaving a cloud of dust.

Chuck backed through the door, closing it as he went. He turned, and walked into the bedroom.

Veronica lay on the center of the bed, curled in a ball. Her body was wracked with silent sobs, and every so often, a wordless cry of anguish would burst forth.

Chuck sat down on the bed next to her. He reached out an arm, put it around her shoulders – and she practically crawled onto him, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his shoulder. He wrapped his right arm around her shoulders and his left arm around her back, hugging her tightly against him.

He realized his own face was wet with tears. His mind raged. Nobody should have to experience that. Nobody, not ever.

They didn't move for hours.

* * *

**4:00 P.M., PDT  
Neptune, California**

"Our agent is in place," Casey announced. A round of applause greeted the declaration.

"He will hopefully make contact either tonight or tomorrow," he continued. "As soon as he does, he'll send his signal. If we get his signal within the next twenty-four hours, we take off on Sunday morning."

He paused. "I am very proud to stand here before you, all citizens, all volunteers, willing to risk everything to go rescue two people. It's on a day like today that I'm proud to be an American."

John Casey grinned, and the applause was practically deafening.

* * *

**5:30 PM, CST  
Lac la Plonge**

Chuck had stayed by Veronica's side all afternoon, holding her close as she cried. Torturous, anguished sobs spilled out of her, over and over, until she finally fell asleep.

Even then, he stayed with her, holding her as she slept. He could only pray that she would have a peaceful, dreamless sleep, that the events of that morning would not haunt her unconscious mind as well.

Then there was a knock on the door. Chuck nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard it. A knock at the door was the last thing he wanted to hear, after what had happened that day.

When he answered it, though, an unfamiliar face greeted him. A man in a Canadian Air Force uniform stood there. He had a mustache, a full beard, a short, spiky haircut, and aviator sunglasses. "Mr. Bartowski," he said.

That voice. It sounded familiar… but Chuck couldn't place it. "Can I talk to you for a moment, outside, please?" the Canadian airman asked.

Chuck just nodded and stepped outside. The airman reached behind him and closed the door. Then he turned and faced Chuck. "It's good to see you, Chuck," he said, as he removed the sunglasses.

Chuck nearly had a heart attack. The sunglasses, the beard, the mustache, the haircut – they had all made him look different. But it was the eyes. There was no mistaking the eyes.

A smile almost found its way to his lips, but thoughts of the day pushed it away.

"It's good to see you, too, Bryce."


	14. Window In the Skies

_**Chuck in a Moment**_

**Chapter 14: Window in the Skies**

**CAST (in order of appearance):**  
Chuck Bartowski – Zachary Levi  
Veronica Mars – Kristen Bell  
Bryce Larkin – Matthew Bomer  
Carina Hansen – Mini Anden  
Sarah Walker – Yvonne Strahovski  
John Casey – Adam Baldwin

* * *

**9:15 A.M., Central Standard Time  
Saturday, August 15th, 2009  
Lac la Plonge Auxiliary Air Field, Saskatchewan, Canada**

Chuck Bartowski wasn't quite sure why he was awake. He hadn't fallen asleep until close to 6:00 A.M., so just over three hours of sleep was certainly nowhere even close to enough.

Veronica had cried herself out around midnight, and fallen asleep herself around 1:00 A.M. Chuck had tried to fall asleep, but the sounds of Veronica's voice from the day before wouldn't stop running through his head.

And now he was awake again. He found himself with decidedly murderous intentions running through his head. As far as he was concerned, Martin Ducard was the walking dead.

Veronica had fallen asleep still completely dressed the night before, in a sweater and a pair of jeans. That couldn't have possibly been comfortable – but Chuck couldn't blame her.

He sighed. He was going to have to go out of his way to avoid his morning guilt trip. Veronica was going to need him to be normal and sane this morning. He couldn't be wallowing in his own self-pity today.

It was about another five minutes of lying there before she began to move. She slowly stretched out her arms, then lifted her head and opened her eyes. A tiny smile crossed her mouth as she looked at Chuck.

"Hi," she whispered. Chuck didn't say anything, just looked at her and smiled.

Neither of them said anything for a moment, and then Chuck spoke. "How are you feeling?"

She sighed. "Violated," she replied. "Not the first time."

Chuck raised an eyebrow as he looked down at her. "You're taking it surprisingly well," he said softly.

"Not really," Veronica said, slowly shaking her head. "This is what's called coping. You know, when you've been raped, and then somebody tries to do it a second time… when your best friend gets murdered… when you see somebody jump off of a fourteen story hotel right in front of you…"

She sighed again. "You learn how to deal."

Chuck shook his head. "God," he breathed. "You are made of some strong stuff."

Veronica smiled. "Gotta compensate for my small size somehow."

* * *

About forty minutes later, both of them had cleaned up and were feeling more human. Veronica was slowly nursing one of her bottled frappucinos, while Chuck had gone straight to the source and popped open a Rockstar.

Neither of them was expecting a knock at the door, but when it came, Veronica nearly jumped out of her skin. Chuck could hardly blame her – the knock at the door this time yesterday… well, he was assuming that was a trip she'd rather forget.

But the person at the door today was the incognito Bryce Larkin. "Good morning, Mr. Bartowski," he said, holding a finger to his lips. Pulling a device that looked like a cell phone from his pocket, he hit three buttons, and a green light immediately started blinking on it.

"Bug jammer," he explained, walking into the cabin. "The four of us can talk freely now."

"The four of us?" Chuck asked. "You have a monkey in your pocket, perhaps?"

"No," Bryce replied. "The fourth is coming in with breakfast."

That's when Carina Hansen walked in. She was also dressed in a Canadian Air Force uniform, her hair pulled up underneath the cap, but that didn't slow her down one bit. "Hello, Chuck," she said, her usual flirtatious smile right where it always was.

Veronica's eyes widened at the voice. She turned around and saw Carina. "YOU!" she gasped, standing up and pointing.

"Oh, Jesus," Carina groaned. "Insane blonde pixie alert. Please tell me she left her howitzer at home, Chuck."

Chuck nodded. "Congratulations, Carina, you win the insensitive bitch of the day award, and it's only 10:00."

Carina looked at him with what appeared to be a real look of offense. "Excuse me?" she asked. "I come here with Bryce for the express purpose of rescuing your ass. I bring you breakfast, and this is the thanks I get?"

Chuck crooked his finger, indicating that Carina should come to him. She did, setting the two to-go boxes she carried down on the table.

As Chuck whispered an explanation in her ear, Veronica opened one of the boxes. "Wow," she said. "Pancakes made by somebody other than me!"

"We grabbed some food from the mess," Bryce replied, as Chuck backed away from Carina. Carina's facial expression had gone from annoyed to horrified.

"Oh my God," she breathed. "Oh, God, I'm so sorry, Veronica."

Veronica looked down at the table. "It's okay," she said quietly.

"No," Carina replied, "no, it's not! You can't just tell yourself that!"

Bryce looked confused. "I'm lost," he said. "What the hell is going on?"

Chuck sighed and closed his eyes. "Yesterday, Veronica was taken to see the base doctor, this guy named Martin Ducard."

"Yeah, I know who he is," Bryce said. "He's the one who put the bugs in here."

"Right," Chuck replied. "Anyway, he told Veronica that she was a month pregnant, and then…"

Chuck stopped for a moment. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and blew it out again. "Then he restrained her, and aborted the pregnancy against her will."

Bryce's face froze. He didn't say anything. He didn't even breathe for a moment. Finally, he slowly blew out his breath. "My God," he whispered. "What a sick bastard."

"Dead man walking, as far as I'm concerned," Carina said softly.

Bryce closed his eyes. "I… I seriously think I'm gonna be sick," he muttered, crossing the kitchen to the sink. He bent over it, but nothing happened. He took one deep breath, then another, and stayed bent over. "Do you have some water?"

Chuck opened the refrigerator, grabbed a bottle, and passed it to Bryce. Bryce twisted it open, took a swig, swished it around in his mouth, and spat it out in the sink. Then he leaned back and took a long drink of it.

Then a confused look crossed his face. "Wait a second," he said. "She was pregnant?"

Uh-oh. This was a moment Chuck had not been waiting for. "So, you…" Bryce pointed at Chuck.

"Well, it wasn't an immaculate conception," Veronica deadpanned, trying to put some levity into the situation.

"Chuck," Bryce said, a note of anger entering his voice, "correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't you ENGAGED?"

"I didn't have a choice, Bryce!" Chuck replied, a cold fury tinting his voice. "Doctor Ducard was going to KILL her if I didn't!"

Bryce raised an eyebrow. "Do you even know what goes on up here, Bryce?" Chuck asked, and then plowed ahead, without waiting for an answer. "It's what they call the 'Humanity Project'. They're trying to breed the 'perfect human'. If you ask me, it sounds a lot like the 'Final Solution'!"

Now Chuck had a full head of steam. "You know, you know my grandparents on my dad's side, they would've been sent to Auschwitz-Birkenau if they hadn't escaped from Warsaw, and, and ended up in Florida? Well, that's what this is! This is like the Canadian Auschwitz! That's what Fulcrum's doing! They don't want the Intersect, they want the goddamn Aryan Nation!"

Chuck's face was bright red, and he was breathing in great, heaving gasps. "Chuck," Carina said quietly, "calm down, okay?"

Chuck's face twisted in furious disbelief as he turned his rage on her. "Why the hell should I calm down?!"

"Because you're about to start hyperventilating," she replied, stepping towards him and laying a hand on his shoulder. "You need to breathe, and sit down, before you hurt yourself."

Chuck blew out his breath in a great huff, and collapsed in a chair. "I'm sorry," he said after a moment. "This just… it all makes me so angry. And worst of all is what he did to Veronica… and I couldn't do anything to stop him."

He looked like he was going to say something more, but at that moment, the device on Bryce's belt started beeping. "Oh, shit," Bryce muttered. "Ducard's in the clinic. We've got to go."

Bryce hit a button, and the green light on the device stopped flashing. He headed toward the door, and pulled it open. Carina walked out the door, but Bryce turned back to Chuck.

"Tomorrow," he said, and then he too walked out, closing the door behind him.

Chuck looked after them for a moment, and then his head drooped, falling into his hands. He just sat there for a moment, not doing anything. It was only when his shoulders heaved upwards that Veronica realized he was crying.

She quickly pulled up a chair next to him and sat down, putting an arm around him. "Hey," she whispered. "It wasn't your fault."

"You would've been better off if you'd never met me," Chuck choked out. "You, Sarah, Casey, Bryce – all of you."

"No," Veronica replied firmly. "You're wrong. We're all better off for knowing you. You're an incredible man. Everybody should be so lucky as to have you for a friend."

Chuck didn't say anything. His problem was so much deeper than Veronica thought. It wasn't just guilt. It went so far beyond just that.

He felt like his heart was slowly being ripped in half.

* * *

**11:30 P.M., Pacific Daylight Time  
John Wayne International Airport, Santa Ana, California**

Sarah Walker slowly walked through the retired Starlifter. The cargo area was packed with vehicles – Crown Vics and Suburbans parked side by side, bumper to bumper. They were already loaded with weapons.

The FBI's UH-1H Huey was stowed at the very end of the cargo hold, by the huge loading door, its rotors folded, its tail extended over the very front row of Balboa County Sheriff's Crown Vics. The helicopter, just like all the vehicles, was securely anchored so that it wouldn't shift a millimeter in flight.

She went forward, to where jump seats had been bolted down for the sixty-three people who would be going on this mission. Sarah looked at the starboard bulkhead, and noticed that it appeared to be covered in scratches.

When she looked more closely, though, she realized that it wasn't just random scratches – it was actually engravings. Cocking her head, she tried to make sense of them. After a moment, they became clear.

Each engraving included the name of a soldier, the outfit he was attached to, a date, and a destination. The latest date that Sarah found said, "PFC Rodney Mitchell, USMC 1/7, 3/19/03, Iraq".

Sarah was intrigued by this flying wall of history she had stumbled upon. She kept reading the engravings, finding some that were more than forty years old, some that were within the last ten years.

Then she found two that were totally unexpected. One came as a surprise, one as a total shock. The surprising one read, "Cpt. John Casey, USAF 366 FW, 3/21/99, Kosovo".

But the other one was something she never would've expected to see. When she read it, it felt like a shock of electricity had been sent down her spine. The engraving said, "SFC Sid Bartowski, USA 1/10 ACR, 11/29/67, Vietnam."

"Can't sleep either?"

Her head jerked around to the right. John Casey stood at the back row of seats. "Casey, you've got to take a look at this," she said.

With a puzzled look on his face, Casey joined her, and bent down. She pointed out his own engraving first.

His eyes went wide. "I will be damned," he said quietly. "This is my bird – Mad Martha!"

Sarah turned a strange look on him. "There were two crews that flew this plane during the Kosovo campaign in 1999," he explained. "I was the pilot for the Blue Crew – we deadheaded on the way over to Kosovo, while the Gold Crew flew. I REMEMBER engraving this, too! I saw all the other engravings, and figured I should add my own."

Sarah smiled. "Take a look at this one," she told him, pointing to the engraving made by Sergeant First Class Sid Bartowski.

Casey peered at it closely, and then looked up at her. "You don't think…"

She raised an eyebrow. "I don't just think, I know," she replied. "Sid Bartowski, deployed November of 1967. Promoted to Master Sergeant February 1968, KIA June 17th, 1969. Had a son, Steven, born 1957, and a daughter, Marilyn, born 1963. Steven had two children – a daughter, Eleanor, born in 1979, and a son, Charles, born in 1981."

Casey nodded, a rare smile coming to his face. "So Chuck's grandfather is riding along for the rescue mission, huh?"

Sarah smiled back. "Hey, I'd say we can use all the help we can get on this one."

Casey stood. "Come on, Walker, you need to get some sleep. Big day tomorrow."

"Yes, yes it is," she agreed. "A big day indeed."


	15. Sunday Bloody Sunday

_**Chuck in a Moment**_

**Chapter 15: Sunday Bloody Sunday**

**CAST (in order of appearance):**  
Logan Echolls – Jason Dohring  
Keith Mars – Enrico Colantoni  
John Casey – Adam Baldwin  
Sarah Walker – Yvonne Strahovski  
Chuck Bartowski – Zachary Levi  
Veronica Mars – Kristen Bell  
Bryce Larkin – Matthew Bomer  
Carina Hansen – Mini Anden  
Dr. Martin Ducard – Christoph Waltz

* * *

**4:30 A.M., Pacific Daylight Time  
Sunday, August 16th, 2009  
John Wayne International Airport, Santa Ana, California**

"Tower to Globemaster One, you are cleared for takeoff."

"Roger that. Globemaster One rolling."

The pitch of the four Pratt & Whitney TF33 turbofans increased, the howl growing louder as the pilot brought the power up to full. This particular Starlifter had been converted to a full fly-by-wire, glass cockpit configuration, so it could be flown with a two-man crew. The flight engineer's position was eliminated but the seat remained.

And that seat was where Logan Echolls sat. Keith Mars and John Casey had both informed him in no uncertain terms that he would not be participating in the mission. As such, they had both been rather surprised to see him at John Wayne Airport in the wee hours of that morning.

"I happen to own this aircraft," Logan informed them. "I haven't been paid for a charter, but rather, I'm donating the use of it out of the goodness of my heart. Therefore, I will be riding along in the cockpit. If you have a problem with that, well, you can suck it."

That statement did not make John Casey happy, but Keith Mars had pulled him aside. "If there's anybody going on that mission who could possibly be as worried about Veronica as I am, it's him," he told Casey. "Don't try to make him stay here. He'll make your life hell."

And so, the Starlifter owned by Globemaster Airlines thundered down the runway, speed increasing, 66 people on board – thirty-two Balboa County Sheriff's deputies, the twenty man LAPD anti-gang task force, the eight man FBI hostage rescue team, the two pilots, Keith Mars, John Casey, Logan Echolls, and the lone woman – Sarah Walker.

Sarah had not gotten to sleep as Casey had suggested. Instead, she had been up for a good portion of the night, speaking to Director Graham, who had somehow managed to convene a quorum of the House Intelligence Committee in the middle of the night. Together, they had agreed to temporarily reinstate Sarah to the position of deep-cover operative, which increased what she could get away with by a considerable amount.

The Starlifter would, theoretically, be unmolested all the way in and all the way out. Anna Wu was as good as her word – she had hacked into the databases of both the FAA and the CARAC, and not only had she inserted flight plans both from John Wayne Airport to Lac la Plonge and vice versa, but she had set them up to activate at certain times, so that no suspicions would be aroused.

The flight was expected to take just under five hours – really, not bad, all things considered. That was long enough for Logan Echolls to figure out how he was going to work up to telling Veronica that he still loved her. It was long enough for Sarah Walker to figure out how she was going to kick Carina Hansen's ass into next week. It was long enough for the police officers onboard to figure out what the etchings on the bulkheads meant, and add their own.

However, with a five hour flight, that was long enough for the passengers to get bored and mind-numbed. They were all quite pleased when the P.A. came on.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking," came the voice of Logan Echolls. There was a pause, and then the sound of him laughing. "Sorry, I've always wanted to say that. Anyway, we're forty-five minutes out, so now would be a good time to start getting ready to go."

Seatbelts were unbuckled as police officers stood, opened duffle bags, and began to don riot gear. "This is going to be a dangerous mission, and it's entirely possible that people might not be coming back," Logan continued, without a trace of humor or irony in his voice. "But remember, you're doing this for two very good people – Chuck Bartowski, and Veronica Mars."

His voice cracked as he said Veronica's name. "And I want you all to know," he said, his voice getting tighter. "For doing this for Veronica, you all have my undying gratitude."

The P.A. clicked off. Officers continued to put on their gear. Casey, Sarah, and Keith Mars stood at the front of the deck and watched. Once they were clothed, they went to their vehicles. Two Balboa County Sheriff's Deputies got into each car, and five LAPD officers into each Suburban. The plan was that as soon as the plane rolled to a stop, an officer would jump out of each vehicle and detach it from its anchor, and as soon as the FBI had their helicopter out, the "cavalry" would roar out of the back of the aircraft.

The aircraft rumbled as it descended through alternating layers of cool and warm air. Casey and Sarah looked at each other.

It was time.

* * *

**10:30 A.M., Central Standard Time  
Lac la Plonge Auxiliary Air Field, Saskatchewan, Canada**

Chuck and Veronica sat next to each other on the couch. She had spent a good portion of the last forty-eight hours either being held by him or cuddled up to him. The only time she was okay with him being out of her sight was when he was using the restroom, and even then, he had to be really quick about it, or she started having an anxiety attack.

Chuck's mind raged over what Dr. Ducard had managed to do to Veronica with one simple, but atrociously vicious act. It wasn't fair, to see her turned from a confident, devil-may-care FBI agent into a perpetually anxious little girl almost overnight.

He had refused to make Veronica endure their "mandatory daily activities" the day before, and if Dr. Ducard had said anything about it, Chuck was going to go rip his throat out. But interestingly enough, they hadn't heard a peep from him.

Chuck had suspicions that an audio redirection device and two US federal agents might have had something to do with that.

But yesterday, Bryce had said, "Tomorrow." Now, that meant today. And so, Chuck and Veronica were ready to go. Their laptops sat on the coffee table, easy to grab and run.

To kill time, they were watching the U2 rockumentary _Rattle and Hum_. Neither of them was really paying attention, although when it reached "Sunday, Bloody Sunday", Veronica started humming along.

Chuck smiled as the song hit its midway point, and Bono started ranting about Irish Americans. He had always loved this part.

"_Lemme tell you somthin'. I've had enough of Irish Americans who haven't been back to their country in twenty or thirty years, come up to me and talk about the resistance, the 'Revolution Back Home'._"

A low rumble started rattling the cabin a little bit. Chuck looked up, having no idea where it was coming from.

"_And the glory of the revolution, and the glory of dyin' for the revolution. F-_"

And the rumble hit a new pitch, drowning out Bono's condemnation of the Troubles in Northern Ireland. It was clearly an aircraft landing.

Chuck expected it to pass, but the roar got louder and louder, till it was almost unbearable. He got up and strode to the front door, wrenching it open, just in time to watch a C-141 Starlifter painted in the livery of Globemaster Airlines roll to a stop not a hundred feet from his cabin.

As he watched, the rear cargo ramp dropped open, and a team of men pushed out a helicopter and began unfolding the rotors. Then, to Chuck's utter disbelief, a stream of Ford Crown Victorias with police lights on top poured out, lights and sirens on, followed by four Chevy Suburbans with the logo of the LAPD on their doors.

"What the hell is going on?" he asked, as Veronica joined him at the door.

Her jaw dropped. "Those cars are from the Balboa County Sheriff's Department!" she exclaimed.

Just then, a blue Jeep Cherokee with the CAF logo on the side roared up to the cabin. Bryce and Carina jumped out and made a beeline for the door. "GET INSIDE!" Bryce roared. "GET THE FUCK INSIDE!"

Chuck didn't question Bryce – he went, dragging Veronica with him. Bryce and Carina followed them into the cabin and slammed the front door shut.

"The shit is about to hit the fan, Chuckles," Bryce informed him.

A moment later, there was a pounding on the front door. Bryce crossed to the door and unholstered his gun. "WHO IS IT?"

"The Operative!"

Chuck's eyes went wide as Bryce opened the door. Sarah, Casey, and Keith Mars spilled through the front door, and Bryce slammed it back shut.

Keith Mars looked up – and there was his daughter. "Veronica!" he yelled, and quickly crossed the room, embracing her.

"Daddy!" she said, wrapping her arms around him.

Meanwhile, Sarah and Chuck just stood, looking at each across the living room. "Hi," she said, tentatively.

Chuck almost said "Hi" back, but decided not to, instead, slowly walking across the room to her. "Hello… Operative," he said, doing his best to make his voice mysterious, cocking an eyebrow.

Sarah smiled deviously up at him, and did her best to stare him down – and then said, "Oh, the hell with it," grabbed the back of his head, and practically mauled him.

Chuck's hands flew to the sides of her neck, the back of her head, pulling her as close as he could. This particular kiss put the one on the San Pedro Docks to shame.

Despite the audience that included one very jealous woman and one slightly jealous woman, they ignored their surroundings for nearly a minute, before John Casey cleared his throat and they finally parted.

"Here's the deal," Casey said to Chuck, Veronica, Bryce, and Carina. "There are thirty-two Balboa County Sheriff's Deputies, twenty men from the LAPD Anti-Gang Task Force, and an eight man FBI Hostage Rescue Team out there. Their mission is to neutralize the Canadian forces on the ground, round up any civilians on base, and get everybody the hell out of here before the sheriff shows up – metaphorically speaking, of course, since the sheriff is already here."

Casey looked around. "It's gonna be a few minutes till we get the all clear, so everybody just sit tight."

The smile left Sarah's face. "Actually, I have some business to discuss, with YOU," she said angrily, pointing at Carina.

Carina didn't even protest. She knew exactly what Sarah was talking about. "We all thought you were dead, Sarah. Let it go."

Casey and Veronica both looked confused. "What's going on, Walker?" Casey asked.

"You want to tell them, slut?" Sarah growled, the question causing more than one raised eyebrow. "Or shall I?"

That's when Chuck intervened. "Okay, that's enough, both of you." He gave Carina a look. "I thought we agreed never to talk about that again," he said angrily. Then he turned his gaze on Sarah. "And I figured you would be understanding, even if you didn't like it."

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU GOING ON ABOUT?!" Casey exploded.

Chuck sighed. "Last February, after Sarah's memorial service, I slept with Carina."

Casey's jaw dropped, and just hung there for a moment. "Careful, Major, you'll catch flies," Chuck remarked.

"Jesus, Sarah," Carina said bitterly, "if THAT pissed you off that much, just wait till you hear what he's been doing up here!"

Sarah glared at Carina, and then her gaze shifted to Chuck. He looked away. Sarah's gaze took on a new fire, and it shifted to Veronica. Veronica stared right back at her.

Sarah didn't say a word. She just turned on her heel, stormed into the bedroom, and slammed the door behind her.

Chuck shook his head, and then looked up at Carina. "Oh, well DONE, Agent Hansen," he said sarcastically. "I hope you're proud of yourself."

That's when a voice came over Keith Mars' radio. "Sheriff, we're pretty much done. Can you come out for a moment?"

Keith pulled the door open, and stepped outside. A deputy waved at him from one of the Crown Vics, parked over by Bryce's Jeep. Keith started to jog over toward him –

A gunshot rang out, echoing through the trees. Keith Mars collapsed to the ground.

Veronica's eyes went wide. "DADDY!" she screamed, and took off running toward him.

"Oh, shit!" Chuck exclaimed, and set out the door, hot on her heels – just in time to hear the voice of Martin Ducard.

"Well, well. If it isn't Number Forty-Seven," he said, stepping out from around the corner of the cabin. His gun was leveled and aimed at Veronica, who had turned toward him when she heard him speak.

Her hands trembled as they slowly rose into the air. "Please," she begged. "Just leave me alone."

"I'm sorry, Ms. Mars," Ducard replied, "but I'm afraid you've outlived your usefulness."

"NO!" Chuck shouted, leaping in front of Veronica as Ducard's gun went off. The bullet hit Chuck in his chest, spinning him around and knocking him off his feet. He fell to the ground and was still.

Ducard had begun to raise his gun again when he was hit with a flying tackle from John Casey. The gun went airborne, and Ducard hit the ground hard, Casey landing on top of him. Bryce and Carina both came running after him, guns drawn.

Sarah, in the meantime, had come out of the bedroom when she heard the gunshots. Looking out the door, she saw only one thing – the form of Chuck Bartowski, lying facedown and very still in the dirt.

Her eyes widened, and her heart felt like it had stopped. "CHUCK!" she screamed, running out the front door. She hit her knees next to him, and rolled him over, checking for a pulse. His pulse was weak and irregular.

"Oh my God," came the weak voice of Keith Mars. He had rolled over and sat up, ignoring the bullet in the back of his left knee – and the first thing he saw was the blood soaked chest of Chuck Bartowski.

In a panic, Sarah ripped Chuck's shirt off. He was bleeding heavily from just below his right armpit. She reached down for his belt, undid it, and whipped it out of his jeans. Stuffing the shirt under his arm, she pressed the arm against it, forcing the shirt against the open wound as tightly as she could get it. Then she took the belt and wrapped it around his chest, fastening it as tightly as she could.

Lost in all the chaos, though, were the actions of Veronica Mars. Slowly, she had walked to where Ducard's gun had fallen in the dirt, and picked it up. Then, she crossed over to Ducard –

The sound of the slide being pulled back on the gun was unmistakable. Casey and Bryce both looked up at Veronica, and quickly moved backward as she aimed the gun at Ducard's forehead. "You're a dead man," she whispered.

But she didn't just see Ducard. She saw Moe Flater. She saw Mercer Hayes. She saw Beaver Casablancas. She saw Aaron Echolls. All of them, in the person of Martin Ducard. And he had to die.

However, John Casey wasn't about to let her get away with it that easily. He winced as he stood, an unexpected pain shooting through his left knee, but he ignored it. "Mars," he said quietly, "you don't want to do this."

"Oh, Major Casey, I think I do," she replied, her voice wavering. "This… creature… forced me to have an unwilling sexual relationship, and then… then… when I got pregnant… he violated me… and took my baby from me…"

Behind her, Sarah Walker's face had gone white. Keith Mars' face had turned bright red, and the murderous outrage of an angry father flashed in his eyes.

And yet, none of that was about to deter Casey. "Agent Mars," he said, "don't do this."

"GIVE ME ONE GOOD GODDAMN REASON!" The surprisingly loud voice that came out of Veronica's mouth boomed across the complex.

But the coup de grâce that broke Veronica's determination to kill Doctor Ducard came in the voice of Logan Echolls. He had seen the situation developing from the cockpit of the Starlifter, and had left the plane.

"Because you're not a killer, Veronica," he said softly, walking up behind her. "Remember? We've been through this before. You're not a killer. You never have been. You never will be."

Veronica closed her eyes. That night on the roof of the Neptune Grand. The first time Logan had spoken those words to her.

And that moment was long enough for John Casey to wrap his hand around the barrel of the gun and gently remove it from Veronica's hands. As she opened her eyes and realized the gun was no longer there, Logan put an arm around her shoulders. She began to sob as he led her away.

"ALRIGHT!" Casey shouted. "LISTEN UP! Get the wounded – Bartowski and Sheriff Mars – loaded first! If you're medically trained at all, they're gonna need help, especially Bartowski! Get the civilians onboard –" it had turned out there were about a dozen other civilians on the base, in similar situations to Chuck and Veronica "- and then get the rest of the personnel onboard. Leave all the cars and the helicopter behind, they can be replaced!"

Keith Mars smiled as he hobbled toward the aircraft, supported by two of his deputies. "I'd been wanting to replace the Crown Vics with Dodge Chargers anyway," he said.

Sarah and Carina gently carried Chuck toward the plane, with one of the agents from the FBI hostage rescue team hovering over him, making sure they didn't exacerbate his wound at all. The agent called out medical instructions to two of his fellow HRT agents as they moved.

As the plane was loaded, John Casey and Bryce Larkin escorted Martin Ducard behind the cabin, out of sight, John Casey hobbling as he went. "You okay, Casey?" Bryce asked.

"I think I hurt my left knee," Casey grimaced. "Blew my ACL when I was in high school, and I think I just reinjured it."

When they reached the back of the cabin, they told Ducard to stand against the wall and face them. He didn't appear afraid, though – just curious. "Why didn't you let Agent Mars kill me?" he asked.

"I didn't let her do it because she's a good person," Casey replied, raising his gun.

"Now, us, on the other hand," said Bryce as he raised his gun, "we're bad people.

"Very, very bad people."


	16. Elevation

_**Chuck in a Moment**_

**Chapter 16: Elevation**

**CAST (in order of appearance):**  
Veronica Mars – Kristen Bell  
Logan Echolls – Jason Dohring  
Bryce Larkin – Matthew Bomer  
John Casey – Adam Baldwin  
Chuck Bartowski – Zachary Levi  
Sarah Walker – Yvonne Strahovski  
Paul McLain – Sean Maher  
Captain Ralph – Ralph Garman  
Keith Mars – Enrico Colantoni  
The President – Jamie Foxx  
Langston Arthur Graham – Tony Todd  
White House Chief of Staff – Adrian Pasdar  
Prime Minister of Canada – Leonard Nimoy

* * *

**11:10 A.M., Central Standard Time  
Sunday, August 16th, 2009  
Lac la Plonge Auxiliary Air Field, Saskatchewan, Canada**

Veronica and Logan walked up the loading ramp into the old Lockheed Starlifter. As they boarded the aircraft, they heard two simultaneous gunshots.

The two both froze – and watched as Bryce Larkin and John Casey came walking back around the end of the cabin, Casey limping. "So, what do you think about that?" Logan asked.

"I think Doctor Ducard has split his last gene," Veronica replied, with a rather vicious note of satisfaction in her voice. "Peace, bitch."

A moment later, as the loading ramp closed, the big Pratt and Whitney engines spooled up again. As soon as the ramp locked shut, the aircraft began to move down the runway. A moment later, the nose lifted off the runway, and the fuselage followed shortly thereafter.

By and large, the people onboard were rather happy as the aircraft made its way toward the US border an hour later. The police officers considered the raid a huge success – 72 Canadian airmen were handcuffed to chairs. There had been two casualties – two Canadian officers who had pulled guns on LAPD officers had gotten quickly dead.

However, there was a small group of people who were not happy whatsoever. Chuck Bartowski was in extremely bad shape, and Sarah Walker and Veronica Mars were both very much not happy about that.

Paul McLain, the medic with the FBI hostage rescue team, had a very concerned expression on his face. "He's losing blood quickly, and I think his right lung is perforated," he said. "We have to get this plane on the ground, and I mean as soon as possible, or he's…"

He stopped talking and shook his head.

"No," Veronica whispered. "No, there is no fucking way he made it through the last month only to have this happen!"

Before anybody could stop her, she had stood up and was making her way toward the cockpit. She wrenched open the door, and both pilots turned toward her.

"You know, you're breaking federal law right now," Logan said.

"I don't care," Veronica replied. "Chuck Bartowski's dying. We have to get the plane on the ground."

Logan's eyes widened. "Uh, Ralph?"

The pilot thought for a moment. "Um, we're about… forty minutes, give or take, from Minot Air Force Base in North Dakota. They've got a pretty good hospital there."

And that was when a pair of sonic booms rocked the Starlifter as two CF-18 Hornets decelerated quickly, pulling in front of the aircraft. "_Globemaster Airlines aircraft, this is the Canadian Air Force,_" they heard over the radio. "_You are in violation of Canadian airspace. Turn to a heading of twenty-five degrees, lower your landing gear, and prepare to land at CFB Moose Jaw._"

"Not good," Logan said.

"Ya think?" Veronica asked sarcastically.

The pilot who Logan had referred to as Ralph got on the intercom. "Uh, folks, the shit's about to hit the fan here. I need everybody in their seats, buckled up, right now. If you don't have a seatbelt… there are straps mounted on the walls, get yourself strapped in. We're gonna be goin' low and hot."

Veronica quickly sat down in the jump seat behind the pilot's seat. Ralph gave the passengers one minute to comply, and then the warning sounded again. "_Globemaster Airlines, I repeat, turn to a heading of twenty-five degrees and lower your landing gear. If you do not comply immediately, you will be fired upon._"

"Not a chance in hell," Ralph muttered. He pushed the throttles to the stops, and shoved the yoke forward, diving toward the earth.

"Christ," John Casey muttered in the back, wrapping his arms around Chuck Bartowski to keep him from falling. Paul McLain cursed as an IV popped out of Chuck's arm, scrambling to put it back in.

Despite the evasive maneuvers, a Starlifter cargo aircraft is no match for the most high-octane aircraft to ever come off the Boeing production line. The lead Hornet pulled a loop and dove directly toward the Starlifter and fired a warning shot in front of the nose.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Ralph hissed – and then saw two more Hornets coming in head-on.

"Oh my God," Logan gasped. "We've got four fighters all over us. This is not good."

Ralph keyed the microphone. "Mayday, mayday, mayday. This is Globemaster One. We are a scheduled cargo flight to Santa Ana, California. We are under attack by the Canadian Air Force and are requesting assistance."

There was an almost immediate response. "_Globemaster One, this is Poindexter Flight out of Mountain Home Air Force Base. Can you clarify your situation? Are you in American airspace?_"

"That's a negative, Poindexter Flight. We are currently approximately one hundred miles north of the Canadian border."

"_Poindexter Flight, this is the Canadian Air Force. If you enter Canadian airspace, you will be shot down immediately. Do not enter Canadian airspace._"

"_Globemaster One, this is Poindexter Flight. We cannot enter Canadian airspace without authorization from Twelfth Air Force Command._"

"Shit," Ralph hissed. "Guys, we're screwed." Nonetheless, he chopped the Starlifter's speed and hauled its nose over to the left. Three of the Hornets blasted far away, and the fourth one had to peel off and upward to keep from running into the old Lockheed cargo aircraft.

Veronica reached across Logan and grabbed the P.A. microphone. Pushing the button on the side, she said, "Hey, we're pretty much screwed up here. If anybody back there's got some sort of super secret 'get out of jail free' card, we could really use it right now."

Back by where Chuck was slowly bleeding out, Bryce looked over at Sarah. "Do you still have your national command authority ID card?"

She sighed. "It went into Long Beach Harbor along with everything else."

Bryce rolled his eyes. "That really fucked a bunch of shit up, you know that?"

Sarah was about to make a remark, when Carina intervened. "I've still got mine," she said angrily, standing up and heading toward the cockpit.

She wrenched open the door, just as Ralph made another surprise maneuver that almost sent her tumbling. "Here!" she yelled, thrusting her black and red national command authority ID in his direction. "Read this number off to… whoever it is you're talking to!"

Ralph keyed the microphone. "Poindexter Flight, you have authorization under national command authority ID number six four one six nine six one!"

There was a moment of silence, and then he heard, "_Globemaster One, this is Poindexter Flight. ETA is three minutes._"

"_Poindexter Flight, do NOT enter Canadian airspace!_" the angry voice of the lead Canadian pilot sounded. "_We WILL shoot you down!_"

There was silence for a moment, and then the lead pilot from Poindexter Flight said, "_The day an F/A-18 can take on an F-16 is the day I will turn in my wings._"

Ralph turned the nose of the C-141 back toward the US border, and pushed the throttles back up to full. He was now flying less than a thousand feet above the surface of the earth. And then, on the horizon –

Four small black dots quickly grew into four Lockheed F-16 Fighting Falcons. They blew past the Starlifter, headed for the pursuing Canadian Hornets. "_Canadian Hornets, break off pursuit immediately, or we will destroy you._"

"_That's a negative, Poindexter Flight. You will depart Canadian airspace RIGHT now, or we will destroy YOU._"

"_Oh well, can't say I didn't try. Fox two!_"

"_WHAT?!_"

"_Aren't infrared missiles a bitch?_"

A second later, there was a scream and then the sound of an explosion. "_Canadian Hornets, this is Poindexter Lead. You will break off pursuit immediately, or you will join your lead._"

There was nothing over the radio channel for a moment. Finally, they heard, "_Yukon Flight, this is Yukon Two. Return to base._"

"YEAH!" Logan shouted, pumping his fists in the air. "That's right, bitches!"

A moment later, the lead F-16 slowly slid into formation off to the left of the Starlifter's nose. "_Globemaster One, this is Poindexter Lead. Do you require an escort?_"

"Uh, roger that, Poindexter Lead," Ralph said. "We have two wounded on board, one critically. We need to set down at Minot Air Force Base ASAP."

"_Copy that, Globemaster One. We will relay the message and get you clearance._"

Shortly after that, a different voice came on the radio. "_Globemaster One, this is Minot Air Force Base. We have been relayed your request for landing clearance and medical assistance. Please describe your aircraft type and origin._"

"We're an MC-141B Starlifter out of Orange County, California," Ralph replied. "We are on a filed flight plan from Lac la Plonge Auxiliary Air Field to John Wayne International Airport."

"_Roger that,_" the Minot controller replied. "_We have your flight plan in the FAA database. You are cleared for immediate landing._"

Five minutes later, the Starlifter lined up on Minot's runway. Ralph pulled the power back and deployed the flaps, slowing the C-141 to just under 140 knots. The Lockheed cargo aircraft dropped rapidly.

A moment later, the rear wheels touched down on the runway. Ralph pulled the throttles back to the reverse thrust stops, and the TF33 turbofans howled. The nose wheel touched down a moment later, and Ralph applied the toe brakes.

The Starlifter slowed rapidly, rolling to a stop. As the aircraft turned onto a taxiway, two olive-green painted ambulances came roaring up to the airplane.

The ramp slowly opened, and as soon as it touched the ground, a group of eight men and women in battle dress uniform stormed into the aircraft. "The wounded!" one of them shouted.

"Here!" Keith Mars yelled with a laugh, raising his hand.

The eight ran over, four of them going to Keith, the other four going straight to Chuck. "What's the situation?" one of them asked – not talking to anybody in particular.

"Gunshot wound to the right torso," Paul McLain replied. "Possible perforated right lung."

"Let's move," the one wearing captain's bars ordered. Two of the NCOs unfolded a gurney, and the other NCO and the captain lifted Chuck, moving him onto the gurney. The four grabbed the corners of the gurney and moved out, Paul McLain following right behind.

Chuck was loaded into the ambulance, and a moment later, the engine roared, and it took off, lights flashing and sirens wailing.

Sarah was left staring out the back of the aircraft after the ambulance.

* * *

**6:00 P.M., Eastern Daylight Time  
The White House, Washington, DC**

The President sighed and shook his head. "What the hell happened up there, Art?"

"Well," Graham replied, a pained look on his face, "a bunch of civilians went up onboard a chartered cargo aircraft, and pretty much wiped out the air field. Twelve of them were federal agents."

"And they went in there, why?"

"Because, sir, another federal agent and the civilian who we refer to as the Human Intersect had been kidnapped by the domestic terror organization known as Fulcrum and were being held by the Canadian Air Force."

The President sighed again. "Any casualties?"

"The Balboa County Sheriff was shot in the back of the knee, and the Intersect was severely wounded. He's in surgery right now."

"Oh, great," the President snarked. "The man who they went in there to rescue got himself shot. And please, tell me that the Balboa County Sheriff you refer to isn't that wackjob who wrote that book about Aaron Echolls."

Graham looked at the floor. "One and the same, sir. Oh, and the federal agent being held with the Intersect was Sheriff Mars' daughter."

"That's it," the President groaned. "Call Senator McCain. Tell him he can have the job. I quit."

The President's chief of staff turned and looked at him, eyes wide. "You're not serious, sir?!"

The President rolled his eyes. "No, I'm not seri-"

And that's when the phone on his desk rang. "I might be after this call."

He reached out and pushed the speakerphone button. "This is the President."

"_Mr. President, this is the Prime Minister._"

"Mr. Prime Minister."

"_Mr. President, are you aware that approximately five hours ago, a group of Americans invaded an air base in northern Saskatchewan using a C-141 Starlifter, an action that resulted in the deaths of two Canadian airmen?_"

"I'm aware, Mr. Prime Minister."

"_Are you also aware that approximately two hours after that, a flight of US Air Force F-16s crossed the border and shot down a Canadian CF-18 that was attempting to force the Starlifter to land?_"

"I'm aware, Mr. Prime Minister."

"_Mr. President, as far as I'm concerned, a state of hostilities currently exists between our countries._"

"Is that so, Mr. Prime Minister. Well, let me inform you of something, sir. At the air base that those men invaded, the Canadian Air Force was holding fourteen American citizens captive. They were there under the 'care' of a physician named Martin Ducard, who was apparently conducting genetic tests on them. You're aware that that violates all sorts of international laws, correct?"

Silence.

"Mr. Prime Minister?"

"_Uh, I can't say as I was aware of that, Mr. President._"

"Well, then, let me give you a clue, Mr. Prime Minister. You want a state of hostilities to exist between our nations, fine. But let me tell you something. One troop crosses the border, one military aircraft enters our airspace, one bullet is fired in the general direction of the United States of America, and the US Army will march into Ottawa, you will be on the Ace of Spades, and your next stop will be the Hague to face trial for crimes against humanity."

Silence again. Finally, "_Mr. President, in that case, perhaps a state of hostilities would be unwise. However, as the leader of the Canadian government, I must demand that you pay one hundred million US dollars to the families of each of the three Canadian airmen killed._"

The President nodded. "Very well, Mr. Prime Minister. We're willing to concede to that demand. However, the Canadian government must pay one hundred million dollars to each of the fourteen American citizens who were being held captive and experimented on by your Doctor Ducard. Oh, and we want Canadian dollars. The US dollar is a little weak right now."

"_Mr. President, that demand is ludicrous. What do you intend to do if we don't comply?_"

"Oh, do we really have to go over this again? Come on. US Army. Ottawa. Ace of Spades. Hague. Capisce?"

"_Understood, Mr. President_."

And then the call was disconnected. The President actually had a bit of a smile on his face. "You know what, forget about that call to the Senator. I think I'll keep the job after all."


	17. Pride: In the Name of Love

_**Chuck in a Moment**_

**Chapter 17: Pride (In the Name of Love)**

**CAST (in order of appearance):**  
Sarah Walker – Yvonne Strahovski  
Veronica Mars – Kristen Bell  
Keith Mars – Enrico Colantoni  
John Casey – Adam Baldwin  
Specialist McLellan – John Mayer  
Chuck Bartowski – Zachary Levi

* * *

**7:30 A.M., Central Daylight Time  
Tuesday, August 18th, 2009  
Minot Air Force Base, North Dakota**

Sarah Walker had been up for over an hour. She hadn't slept well the night before – or the night before that, either.

Chuck Bartowski had lost so much blood that doctors had begun to worry about oxygen starvation to his brain. To prevent any brain damage, the doctors had induced a coma before going into surgery.

The medical staff at the hospital at Minot hadn't finished the surgery until after 4:00 A.M. on Monday. After completing the surgery, the doctors had attempted to bring him out of the induced coma.

They had failed.

And so, twenty-seven hours later, Chuck still lay in a coma. Sarah had spent the bulk of Monday with him. A stream of visitors had been to Chuck's room over the course of the day.

Veronica Mars had not been among them. However, according to the nurses' station, she'd been past the room at least half a dozen times over the course of the day – she just never came in.

Sarah got the distinct feeling that Veronica was avoiding her. And truth be told, Sarah had sort of been avoiding Veronica as well. She had also been avoiding Carina and Bryce. In fact, the only person she had really felt comfortable around the day before had been, strangely enough, John Casey.

But enough was enough. Sarah and Veronica were going to have to talk to each other about what had happened in Canada, and doing it sooner would be much better than later.

Since nobody had expected to actually stay anywhere overnight, the only people with changes of clothes were Bryce and Carina. The base exchange had been kind enough to provide surplus battle dress uniforms for everybody. Casey and the members of the Balboa County Sheriff's Department who were in the National Guard or Reserves had rank insignia on theirs; however, the civilians couldn't put any adornments on theirs.

Sarah did feel a little foolish walking around in a BDU with no rank insignia, no service insignia – just a simple black on green nametag that said "Walker". She drew more than a few strange looks as she walked down the corridor of the visiting officers' quarters toward Veronica's room.

She stood in front of the door for almost two minutes before finally mustering the courage to lift her hand and knock on the door. A moment after knocking, the door was opened, to reveal Veronica, clearly just out of the shower, wearing a bathrobe, a toothbrush in her mouth.

"Hi, Sarah!" she mumbled around her toothbrush, clearly surprised to see the CIA agent. "Come in!"

Sarah walked into Veronica's quarters, and it was instantly clear to the younger FBI agent that Sarah was very nervous about being there. She sat down on the edge of the uncomfortable government-issue chair that sat in front of the ugly government-issue desk.

Veronica headed back over to the bathroom to spit out her mouthful of toothpaste, only to find the door locked. "Dad!" she called. "I have a mouthful of toothpaste here!"

"Oh, sorry, honey," Keith Mars replied, unlocking the door and returning to his own room. "I guess it's a good thing I was only brushing my teeth myself."

Veronica shook her head, spat out her toothpaste, rinsed out the toothbrush and rinsed her mouth, then returned to her room, shutting the bathroom door behind her. "Your dad's on the other side?" Sarah asked.

"Yeah," Veronica replied, rolling her eyes. "It's been a couple years since I had to share a bathroom with him. My, how I missed it."

Sarah let out an uncomfortable laugh, and then fell silent again. After a moment, Veronica finally said, "So, are you going to tell me why you're here, or are you going to just sit there looking like a truck ran over your puppy?"

Sarah sighed, and collected her thoughts. She tried to think of something to say, something that wouldn't make her sound like an evil, jealous bitch, but what popped out was, "Why'd you spend the last month and a half fucking my boyfriend?!"

Veronica raised her eyebrows. "Oookay," she said slowly. "I kinda figured that's why you were here, but I had been hoping we could discuss this civilly."

Sarah put a hand to her forehead. Yeah, that had DEFINITELY made her sound like an evil, jealous bitch. "Sorry," she said quietly, and then looked up at Veronica. "But the question stands."

Veronica nodded. "It's a fair question," she replied. "The short answer is, I didn't have a choice. When Doctor Ducard told us that he wanted us to start having sex in order to breed, Chuck told him there wasn't a chance in hell. He didn't want to do it."

That made Sarah feel a little bit better, but only a little bit. "Thing was," Veronica continued, "Ducard was a sick, twisted bastard. He told Chuck that if we didn't do exactly as he said, he was going to dissect me while I was alive, and make Chuck watch."

Sarah's eyes went wide, and she began to feel light-headed. "Oh my God," she whispered. "What the hell?!"

"Yeah, pretty much Chuck's reaction," Veronica replied. "And for what it's worth, I told him that he had been given a choice, and there was an option that didn't require him to do it. However, you know and I know that there's no possible way Chuck would ever just stand by and let somebody he loved be killed."

Sarah nodded, her face downcast. "And honestly, it ripped him apart," Veronica said. "I could see it on his face – the fact that he knew he had to do it, because otherwise, I'd die, fighting this constant battle against the huge amount of guilt he felt."

Sarah crossed her arms and bit her lower lip, looking up at the ceiling, trying not to cry. "He never, ever stopped loving you, Sarah," Veronica said softly. "And in the interest of being completely honest… there was a little while toward the end where I sort of hoped that maybe this experience would…"

She stopped as Sarah turned her gaze on her. "Be very careful what you say," Sarah uttered quietly and dangerously. "My cousin or not, there are boundaries to what I will let you get away with."

Veronica shook her head. "I haven't gotten over him yet," she admitted. "It's only been three and a half months since we broke up. And I would never want to hurt you, I wouldn't want to steal him from you, but it was hard for me NOT to hope that maybe he wanted to come back to me."

Sarah's face grew stony, a cold fire burning in her eyes. "He never did, though," Veronica finished. "I could see it in his face, in his actions, in the way he would just sit with his laptop in front of him for hours at a time, looking at pictures of you. As far as I can tell, he is in love with you, and nobody else."

Sarah didn't say anything for a moment. "Do you trust him?" Veronica asked quietly.

Sarah laughed bitterly. "Do you have any idea how hard it is for somebody like me to trust anybody?"

"More than you could ever possibly understand," Veronica replied. "I've been down this road, and believe me when I say, it's a big dead end."

"I try to," Sarah breathed. "I try to trust him. And I usually do. But when he's been away for six weeks… regularly sleeping with his ex-girlfriend… it's hard."

Veronica smiled slightly and looked at the floor. "Then I think you're talking to the wrong person," she said.

Unfortunately, the person Sarah needed to talk to was still in a coma.

* * *

**10:00 AM**

When Casey found Sarah, she had somehow procured a deck chair and taken it to the roof of the hospital. She lay there, under the North Dakota sun, her BDU cast aside, clad only in her lingerie.

"Haven't you ever heard of skin cancer, Walker?" Casey asked as he approached. "And who the hell lays out tanning in North Dakota?"

Sarah raised her head and looked at him, unreadable with a pair of sunglasses covering her eyes. "It's eighty-three degrees out here, Casey. Perfectly warm enough for it." She gave him a smile that spoke of a high degree of annoyance. "And yes, I've heard of skin cancer. That's why I'm wearing sunblock."

"So exactly what – aside from tanning – are you doing out here?"

Sarah shrugged. "I don't know," she replied. "For some reason, there's just something soothing about watching B-52s take off and land."

"It's the symbol of freedom, Walker." Casey grinned as another of the huge Boeing bombers landed on the Minot runway, rolling out to a stop.

Sarah rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Right."

"Seriously, though, why are you out here? I've been looking for you for over an hour."

"I just needed some time to think, Casey. I spent a while talking to Veronica this morning, and… I just needed to process everything."

Casey nodded. "Makes sense," he replied. "What about Carina?"

"To hell with it," Sarah said. "She's right. She and Chuck both thought I was dead, and if all it was was a pity screw… then I'll live with it."

Casey raised his eyebrows. "That's a pretty big step, Walker."

"Yeah, well, the last year and a half has been just full of those."

Casey walked across the roof and sat down next to Sarah's deck chair. "So what are you gonna do?"

She looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, are you and Chuck still going to get married? If you do, what are you gonna do then? Are you going to stay in the CIA? Go back to being an analyst? Quit, become a soccer mom with a minivan and two point five? How much have you thought about this?"

Sarah sighed. "To answer the first question – absolutely, as long as he still wants to. As far as the rest of it goes, I really have no idea. I guess after the last seven years, I've kind of gotten tired of living undercover, of running from mission to mission. I mean, you think about it, my life is the song 'Secret Agent Man', and I'm tired of the whole odds are I won't live to see tomorrow bit."

Then she smiled sadly. "But it's what I know. I can't imagine living another life."

"So what are you going to do, then?" Casey asked again.

Sarah looked up at the sky. "Well… sometimes, in life, you just have to do things that are beyond your imagination."

Casey smiled, and then sighed. "It'll be a loss to the intelligence services," he mused, "but at this point, I can't see you being happy without him."

Sarah laughed. "To think that of all people, it would be you who was the most understanding."

Casey opened his mouth to reply, but his cell phone rang. He pulled it off his belt and answered it. "Casey."

He listened for a moment. "Yes, thank you. We'll be right there."

He hung up the phone and looked at Sarah. "He's awake."

Sarah sat bolt upright on the deck chair, and began scrambling to get her uniform on. She was headed for the door back into the hospital before she was completely dressed. She was in fact still buttoning the BDU jacket when they came out of the stairwell and entered the hospital corridor, which drew a few strange looks from people in the hall.

She was like a bull headed for a red flag as she charged through the corridors. People moved quickly to get out of her way, not wanting to be run over by the crazy blonde woman in the camouflage uniform. When she reached Chuck's room, a rather large individual in a USAF Class B uniform blocked her way.

"Sorry, ma'am," he told her. "Access is restricted."

She looked at his uniform. "Listen to me, Specialist, uh, McLellan. My name is Sarah Walker. I'm a CIA agent. That man inside is my fiancé, and if you don't let me in, I will break one or more bones in your body before you even realize what's going on." She smiled.

"Right," Specialist McLellan said, but he didn't move. Casey finally caught up to Sarah. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Specialist McLellan here won't let me in," Sarah replied, "despite the fact that I threatened him with bodily harm."

"I'm sorry, sir," McLellan said, "but access is restricted. I have orders."

"From who?" Casey inquired.

"Uh, Captain Markham, sir. He's the doctor working on Mr. Bartowski's case."

Casey smiled. "Well, it turns out that my gold oak leaf here trumps the doctor's silver bars. Step aside, McLellan. That is a DIRECT ORDER."

McLellan looked uncertain. "I hear that the military penitentiary at Fort Leavenworth is beautiful this time of year," Casey growled.

"Alright," McLellan relented. "But when I'm asked why, I'm telling them that it was you, Major."

"You go right ahead and do that," Casey shot back. He opened the door, let Sarah in, and then closed it, assuming the position that McLellan had held in front of the door.

Sarah slowly approached Chuck's bed. The room was darkened, and she wasn't sure if he was awake or not. However, as soon as she came into view, she saw a smile cross his face.

"Hello, beautiful," he whispered.

She smiled and laughed. "I could get used to hearing that," she admitted.

"I figured as much," he replied. "So, I have to ask – why are you dressed like G.I. Jane, where are we, and why do I feel like I got shot?"

Sarah nodded. "Well, we're at Minot Air Force Base in North Dakota. I'm wearing the battle dress uniform because I'm out of clean clothes, and you feel like you got shot because, well, you did. Doctor Ducard was going to shoot Agent Mars, and you jumped in front of her."

"Wow," Chuck replied. "I'm just a big damn hero, aren't I?"

Sarah sighed. "You were stupid, Chuck," she replied. "You could've been killed."

She sat down in the chair next to his bed, and blew her breath out. "What was I supposed to do, Sarah?" Chuck asked. "Let Veronica get killed? I couldn't do that."

"So I've been told," Sarah said softly. Chuck's eyes widened at her tone.

"I take it you've talked to her?" he asked, a note of uncertainty in his voice.

"I have," Sarah replied. "And I understand why you did what you did. It hurts, it really does… but…"

She sighed. "I would've been more disappointed if you'd done any differently."

Chuck was quiet for a moment, and then he took a deep breath, and slowly let it out again. "Thank you," he said quietly.

Sarah nodded. "So," she almost whispered, "I guess… I just want to know… do you still love me?"

Chuck sat up in the bed as far as he could, a look of shock on his face. "Of course I do!" he said. "I could never stop loving you!"

She looked at him, and then looked downward. "Of course," she said. "I should've known better."

When she looked back up at him, there were tears shining in her eyes. "But that's the thing with you. You're such a good person, you're so fiercely loyal, that the way you care about people, it goes past just being friendship. You really do love all the people in your life. And I guess I asked the wrong question."

Sarah took a deep breath, and wiped the tears out of her eyes. "What I should have asked was if you still want to marry me."

Chuck closed his eyes and sighed. "Sarah…"

_**To be continued...**_


	18. Original of the Species

_**Chuck in a Moment**_

**Chapter 18: Original of the Species**

**CAST (in order of appearance):**  
Sarah Walker – Yvonne Strahovski  
Chuck Bartowski – Zachary Levi  
Veronica Mars – Kristen Bell  
John Casey – Adam Baldwin  
Logan Echolls – Jason Dohring  
Bryce Larkin – Matthew Bomer  
Rev. Dana Hanson – himself  
Ellie Woodcomb – Sarah Lancaster  
Carina Hansen – Mini Anden  
Morgan Grimes – Joshua Gomez  
Devon Woodcomb – Ryan McPartlin  
Corporal David Hernandez – Jon Huertas  
Airman Joel Reynard – Michael Weston

* * *

**10:30 A.M., Central Daylight Time  
Tuesday, August 18th, 2009  
Minot Air Force Base, North Dakota**

"So," Sarah almost whispered, "I guess… I just want to know… do you still love me?"

Chuck sat up in his hospital bed as far as he could. "Of course I do!" he said, a look of shock on his face. "I could never stop loving you!"

Sarah's gaze moved to Chuck, and then to the floor. "Of course," she said. "I should've known better."

When she looked back up at him, there were tears shining in her eyes. "But that's the thing with you. You're such a good person, you're so fiercely loyal, that the way you care about people, it goes past just being friendship. You really do love all the people in your life. And I guess I asked the wrong question."

Sarah took a deep breath, and wiped the tears out of her eyes. "What I should have asked was if you still want to marry me."

Chuck closed his eyes and sighed. "Sarah…"

He put his left hand to his mouth, and slowly blew his breath out between his fingers. "There is absolutely nothing I want more than for you to be Mrs. Sarah Bartowski."

Chuck smiled. Sarah's face slowly morphed from a look of despair to a look of unabashed glee. She stood up from her chair and, being careful not to dislodge any of Chuck's IVs or probes, wrapped her arms around his back. She smiled as she embraced him, resting her head on his shoulder.

He lifted his left arm and wrapped it around her back. "I am gonna need a little time," he said quietly. "I think we should take at least a few months before the wedding. I think we also might want to consider premarital counseling."

Sarah pulled back a little and looked Chuck in the eyes. She slowly nodded. "Yeah, you're probably right," she said quietly.

Then she smiled. "But that's okay."

* * *

Chuck Bartowski was discharged from the 5th Medical Group hospital at Minot Air Force Base in North Dakota on September 11th. Sarah, Veronica, and Casey were the only ones left with him – everybody else had returned to California, or in Bryce and Carina's cases, to their assignments.

Veronica and Casey had stayed with him because they were still his handlers, and Sarah had stayed with him for obvious reasons. Chuck was happy to have all three of them around.

Chuck thought it interesting that he was discharged on September 11th. The fact that they were still there that day meant that the three federal agents and the priceless federal intelligence asset got to witness Minot Air Force Base's annual ceremony to mark the anniversary of the terrorist attacks on New York and Washington.

At 7:46 A.M. local time – the exact same moment that American Airlines flight 11 had crashed into the World Trade Center, eight years earlier – the American flag was lowered to half mast. There was a moment of silence, followed by a twenty-one gun salute. Then the base commander began to read the list of the names of the lives lost on September 11th.

At 8:03 A.M., the moment that United Airlines flight 175 crashed into the World Trade Center, the base commander halted the reading of the names. There was another moment of silence, followed by a second twenty-one gun salute. Then the commander of the Fifth Bomb Wing picked up the reading of the names.

The reading continued for the next thirty-four minutes. At 8:37 A.M., the moment that American Airlines flight 77 crashed into the Pentagon, the moment of silence and the twenty-one gun salute were repeated once more. Following that, the commander of the Ninety-First Space Wing continued reading the names.

Twenty-two minutes later, at 8:59 A.M., the moment that the South Tower of the World Trade Center collapsed, the commander of the 91st Wing stopped reading. A fourth moment of silence was observed, and a fourth twenty-one gun salute was rendered, but this time, a lone bugler played Taps as well.

After Taps was played, the commanders of the Fifth Bomb Wing's operations group, mission support group, maintenance group, and medical group came forward. For the next four minutes, they alternated reading the names, stopping again at 9:03 A.M. – the moment that United Airlines flight 93 crashed in Pennsylvania. Another moment of silence was observed.

As the moment of silence ended, a flight of four F-16 Fighting Falcons came into view. As they flew overhead, one peeled off and flew upwards – the traditional missing man formation.

Once the Falcons departed, the four group commanders continued reading the names. They stopped again at 9:28 A.M. – the moment the North Tower of the World Trade Center collapsed. A final moment of silence was observed, a final twenty-one gun salute was rendered, and the bugler played Taps once more.

The three group commanders from the Ninety-First Space Wing then stepped forward, and continued reading the names. They read for twenty more minutes, and fell silent once the last name had been read. As they stopped reading, a low rumble could be heard.

A moment later, a few gasps were heard in the crowd. Heads turned to the east.

Ten B-52H Stratofortress bombers were flying toward the reviewing stand, low and slow. They were arranged in two columns of five bombers each – an approximation of the shape of the World Trade Center.

Chuck felt tears stinging his eyes as the bombers flew overhead. He would never forget that day – being shaken awake by Bryce, a horrified look on his roommate and friend's face as he turned on CNN. Those images would be forever burned in his brain.

Veronica looked desperately like she was trying not to break down crying. Casey was apparently ignoring the tears tracking down his face as he stood ramrod stiff, at attention.

Sarah, though, had in fact broken down. Her hands covered her face, her shoulders heaving. Chuck had no idea why she was affected so much by this, but there was something he could do about it.

Gently putting an arm behind Sarah's back, he pulled her into his embrace. She buried her face in his chest and wrapped her arms around his back.

Chuck had never been told the truth about what September 11th, 2001, had done to Sarah's family – how it had caused her father's post-traumatic stress disorder to lead to a psychotic break, how his behavior afterwards had driven her mother to suicide. He didn't know what was going on – he just knew that if he could hold her in his arms and let her cry, then eventually, everything would be all right.

* * *

Logan Echolls' pilots had picked up the Learjet 35J that belonged to John Casey from Hawthorne Airport in south Los Angeles and flown it to Minot Air Force Base to pick the four up. Logan was onboard to greet them.

"Hey, guys, who's ready to go home?" he asked cheerfully as they boarded the aircraft. But all four were rather somber.

"Okaaay," Logan said. "What did I say?"

"It's not you, Logan," Veronica replied quietly. "It's just that we just watched Minot's 9/11 observance."

"Oh," Logan breathed, and nodded. "Right."

Somewhere over Wyoming, Chuck asked Veronica and Casey if he could have a moment to talk to Sarah. They both readily agreed, and joined Logan at the front of the cabin.

"Okay," Chuck said to her, "I think that if we're going to get married, I need to know a little bit more about your past. This morning, it was pretty clear that the service affected you a lot more than me or Casey or Veronica. What happened to you on 9/11?"

Sarah tried to smile, but it didn't work. "Um, well, my dad was in the Army," she replied, as her eyes began to water. "He came back from Desert Storm with PTSD, which, well, they kind of ignored back then. He had a psychotic break on 9/11, after everything happened, and his behavior after that… um, it led my mom to OD on prescription sleeping pills right before Christmas."

"Oh my God," Chuck breathed. "Oh, Sarah."

He reached over to her and hugged her. She took in a breath, and then let it out again, shakily. "I'm okay," she whispered. "Today's just always a little tough for me."

She pulled back and looked at him. "But all of that happening is why I joined the CIA," she said softly. "And if I hadn't done that… I never would've met you."

Chuck smiled, but didn't say anything. He just reached out and embraced her again.

* * *

When they got back to California, Chuck had a surprise in store for everybody. It turned out that while he was cooped up in the 5th Medical Group hospital, he had finished coding the game that he started in Canada. Upon seeing it, Casey had jokingly suggested that he should call it _Disaster City_. Chuck actually liked the idea.

He had considered going back to Electronic Arts with it, but they had kind of screwed him on royalties and residuals for _Mindnode_. So instead, he went to Rock Star Games – the company that made the _Grand Theft Auto_ series.

Rock Star Games took the game, looked at it, and basically fell in love with it. They paid Chuck ten million dollars for the rights to _Disaster City_, and signed him to a fifteen million dollar per game contract to develop two more games for them.

Chuck was, of course, absolutely flabbergasted. He went from a semi-successful video game designer and nerd to a multi-millionaire overnight. But despite his newfound fame, he followed through on his suggestion for premarital counseling, and the day after he sold the game to Rock Star, he and Sarah began an eight week premarital counseling course with Dana Hanson, Chuck's old pastor from First Lutheran Church of Northridge.

On October 1st, though, Chuck received what he considered to be bad news. Veronica came to the Buy More – where Chuck STILL showed up and spent eight hours behind the Nerd Herd desk every day, despite being a multi-millionaire – and she asked him if they could talk.

What came next was the worst news he had received in a very long time – Veronica had requested a reassignment. She made it very clear that she still wanted to be part of Chuck's life, to be his friend, but her feelings for him just weren't going away, and she needed to not be around him all the time, which she didn't have a choice about as his handler.

And so, one sad Saturday at the end of October, Chuck, Casey, and Logan showed up at Veronica's apartment in Santa Monica with a U-Haul truck and a case of beer. She had received her new assignment, to the FBI's field office in San Diego.

The three men packed everything in the apartment into the U-Haul. As they were getting ready to leave, Veronica asked for a moment alone with Chuck.

So, Logan headed downstairs to the U-Haul – "Oh, joy, I get to drive this monster," he had sarcastically remarked – and Casey just sort of disappeared for the moment.

"I'm gonna miss seeing you every day, Chuck," Veronica said softly, her voice making it quite evident that she was doing her best not to cry. "It's been a very, very long time since I was ever able to trust somebody as much as you."

Chuck smiled. "Hey, if it hadn't been for you, I would never have made it till Sarah came back."

He sighed. "You know, that night, back in January, when we first got together?"

Veronica nodded. "I had gone to the bridge that night, the one Sarah jumped off of. It was the same day, just a year later. And… I was going to jump."

Her eyes widened. "Logan showed up," Chuck continued. "He didn't know why he was there, he just said he had a feeling. And he told me to think about everybody in my life, to think about you."

His eyes started to fill with tears, but he smiled. "You saved my life, Veronica Mars. So, all that, up in Canada… that was just me returning the favor."

Veronica smiled and nodded, but didn't say anything – she just hugged Chuck tightly. After a moment, she let go, turned, and headed down the stairs, without a backward glance.

Chuck stood, watching after her. He heard the U-Haul truck start up, and saw it pull out of the parking lot, Veronica's Aston Martin behind it.

"Well, Chuck, you certainly do have a way with your handlers," Casey said.

Chuck nearly jumped out of his skin. "Jesus, where'd you come from?!"

"It's a little complicated, involves my mother and father and a bottle of Jose Cuervo, but – oh, you're talking about right now," Casey said, as Chuck shot him a look of exasperation. "I was just around the corner, talking to your new handler."

Chuck looked at Casey incredulously. "Already?!"

And Bryce Larkin stepped around the corner. "What can I say," he said. "Hunting Fulcrum got boring. Seems like all the excitement is wherever the Intersect is."

Chuck shook his head. "Well, this should be interesting."

Bryce nodded. "Listen, Chuck, there was something I was kind of hoping I could get you to do, if it's not too much to ask."

Chuck raised an eyebrow. "And what's that?"

Bryce sighed, and looked skyward. "Listen, I was hoping… I mean, I know I've pulled some pretty stupid shit on you… but I was hoping, if you could find it in yourself, to forgive me."

Chuck sighed. Bryce had pulled a lot of stupid shit on him. Stanford. Jill. Sarah.

But Bryce had also been his friend for a long time. Chuck closed his eyes and nodded. "Absolutely."

Bryce smiled. "Thank you."

"Of course," Chuck said, and then smiled. "But if you touch Sarah once, I'll kill you."

Bryce's eyes widened, but then he threw off a mock salute. "Message received and understood, SIR."

* * *

**2:30 P.M., Pacific Standard Time  
Saturday, January 30th, 2010  
First Lutheran Church, Northridge, California**

It had been two years. Two years to the day since she had jumped off the Vincent Thomas Bridge.

And now, she was about to take a plunge of a very different sort.

Sarah stood in the bridal dressing room, looking at the mirror. As a little girl, she had on more than one occasion fantasized about what her wedding would be like.

The reality didn't appear to be too far off.

She hadn't been able to find anything in white that she liked, but the cream-colored Versace gown she had found on Rodeo Drive had been perfect. Chuck, still used to living on his Buy More paycheck, had just about had a heart attack upon seeing the price tag – and then his sister had oh-so-kindly reminded him that his income was now approximately equivalent to the gross domestic product of a small third world nation.

The only thing that disappointed her was that her father wasn't going to be able to give her away. He was very sick, and the staff of the Beacon Hill Convalescent Home didn't think it was a very good idea to travel, let alone to the other side of the country.

So she had gone with the next best thing.

"I can't believe I'm giving you away," John Casey grumbled as she came through the door from the dressing room into the narthex.

Sarah smiled. "Hey, somebody had to do it. And for the record, you look good in a tuxedo."

Casey smiled and shook his head. "Well, glad to know one of us thinks so."

The wedding coordinator crooked her finger, indicating that it was just about time. Sarah and Casey crossed the narthex to the doors of the church, and came to a stop – just as the organist began to play Richard Wagner's _Bridal Chorus_.

"Let's go get you married," Casey said, unable to keep his smile from turning into a full-blown ear-to-ear grin.

Casey escorted Sarah into the sanctuary, and almost immediately, her finely-tuned observation skills went to work. Directly down the aisle from her was Dana Hanson, pastor of First Lutheran Church. To his right stood the three bridesmaids – Ellie Woodcomb, as the matron of honor stood on the first step down, facing the congregation. To her right, on the next step, was Veronica Mars, and to her right, a step below Veronica but still towering over her, was Carina Hansen.

Sarah had finally forgiven Carina right before Thanksgiving. Carina got strangely emotional over the whole situation, saying that she had never wanted to hurt Sarah, and that she couldn't stand the fact that she'd hurt somebody who she considered to be a friend so badly.

On the other side of Dana Hanson – there was Chuck. His face lit up with the smile that Sarah loved so much as she entered the sanctuary, although it appeared to be even brighter than usual, if that was possible. On his left was Morgan Grimes, as his best man, and then Bryce Larkin and Devin Woodcomb.

The wedding service seemed almost to be a blur. Sarah would, of course, later be able to recite every last part in sharp detail, but while she stood up there on the chancel of First Lutheran, her hands in Chuck's, her eyes never left his, her mind never thinking about anything but him.

When she said, "I do," she felt a wave of happiness wash over her like she had never felt before. Sarah Walker, the legendary CIA operative who had made a business of being able to leave anything, at any time, for any reason, had just committed the rest of her life to one person.

And that was absolutely all right with her.

* * *

An hour later, the reception was in full swing at the Woodland Hills Country Club. John Casey had announced his intentions to get completely hammered, telling Bryce that he had to stay sober and watch over Chuck just in case somebody showed up and wanted to take him away.

"Well, Casey, Bryce is pretty much screwed," Sarah said, "because I plan on taking Chuck away!"

"Hmmm," Casey replied, "that being the case, I'm pretty sure it's not gonna be Bryce getting screwed – I imagine it'll be Chuck."

Sarah had blushed bright red at that comment, but laughed. "Touché."

Chuck and Sarah had decided to engage in a little bit of a conspiracy regarding the bouquet and the garter. When Sarah tossed the bouquet and it wound up in the hands of Veronica Mars, the FBI agent had simply had a "Oh, no way," sort of reaction. However, fifteen minutes later, when the garter ended up in the hands of Logan Echolls, the Balboa County Supervisor had swung by the front table, looked Chuck in the eyes, and simply said, "You are a dead man."

The biggest surprise of the evening, though, was yet to come. Chuck and Sarah were sitting down, taking a brief break between the garter and cake, when two men walked up to the table. Chuck's eyes widened in recognition, and he stood to greet them.

"Corporal Hernandez and Airman Reynard!" he exclaimed. "Holy crap!"

"Uh, you can call me David," Hernandez replied.

"Joel," Reynard added.

Chuck laughed and shook his head. "I don't believe it," he said. "So, what brings you guys here?"

"Well," Hernandez said, "we took your advice, and drove down here to southern California. Logan Echolls was able to give us jobs with the county, and it's all good."

"Thing is," Reynard added, "after being assigned together for so long, and then the drive down here, we realized certain things."

Chuck looked at Reynard curiously – and then realized that Reynard and Hernandez were holding hands. "No way!" he said with a laugh. "I will be damned!"

Hernandez shrugged. "What can I say," he replied. "Guess things just happen that way."

"I guess they do," Chuck said. He looked over and tapped Sarah on the shoulder, interrupting a conversation she was having with Ellie. "Hey, Sarah? I want you to meet these guys. They were probably the only two decent people at Lac la Plonge Auxiliary Air Field."

Half an hour later, cake had been served, and the dance floor had been opened to anybody who wished to go forth. With no parents of the bride or groom around, Chuck had latched onto Sarah at the beginning of the first song, and refused to let go for three songs, much to the amusement of those around them.

However, that's when the DJ put on Switchfoot's "Only Hope." Chuck's eyes widened. "Hey, Sarah, would you mind if I had a dance with somebody else?" he asked quietly.

"As long as you come back," she replied with a smile.

"You better believe it," he said as he walked toward the front table.

Veronica was very busy studying her fingernails, and so didn't even notice for a second that Chuck was standing in front of her. Then she looked up.

"Oh," she said, surprised. "I… I… this was sort of our song, wasn't it? I mean, that's why I just… kind of wanted to ignore everything…"

Wordlessly, Chuck nodded, and then extended his hand. With a smile, Veronica stood, took his hand, and let him lead her on to the dance floor.

"It's almost too bad you're getting married, Chuck," she said quietly as they slowly danced. "I mean, you're kind of the last of the good guys."

"No, I'm not," he said. "I'm sure there's somebody out there for you."

Veronica laughed, unable to keep a trace of bitterness out of the laugh. "Believe me, I've looked."

"You're twenty-two," Chuck replied. "There's plenty of time for you still. And I'm pretty sure there's a guy waiting for you. Perhaps even in this very room."

"Riiight," Veronica drawled. "And perhaps I'm the Queen of England."

"Well, your majesty," Chuck shot back as the song came to an end, "you might want to check… right… behind you."

Veronica gave him a puzzled look, and turned around. Standing about ten feet behind her, looking resplendent in a tuxedo, was Logan Echolls.

She smiled and looked at the floor as he approached. "May I have this dance?" he asked, as U2's "All I Want Is You" began to play.

"Of course, Mr. Echolls," she replied.

Chuck smiled as he took his seat back at the front table, next to Sarah. "My job here is done," he said, looking far too pleased with himself as he looked out at Veronica and Logan.

She laughed and shook her head. "God, but you're a trouble maker."

"Oh, no, you haven't seen me make trouble yet," Chuck replied.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, the trouble-making will be in a couple of hours."

* * *

Doctor Martin Ducard was a misguided man. He tried to eliminate the quirks and foibles that make human beings who they are.

The fact of the matter was, two people probably were going to create a highly intelligent, highly attractive human being with an incredible proclivity for subliminal imaging retention. That person could possibly inherit the H1 haplotype genetic deficiency, but with less than one half of one one-hundredth of one percent of a chance of an individual ever developing progressive supranuclear palsy, it was a risk worth taking.

It seemed that the newest of those human beings wasn't too far away.

On May 2nd, 2010, Sarah Walker Bartowski discovered that she was just shy of three months pregnant.

With twins.

And all was right with the world once again.

_**The End.**_


End file.
